Freefall
by Poisoned Scarlet
Summary: AU! Part III of III in the Quicksand series! – Because life was nothing more than a free fall, right?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Soul Eater nor the lyrics to _Salt Skin _by Ellie Goulding.

**Freefall  
>by. <strong>_Poisoned Scarlet_

* * *

><p><em>You're as sharp as a knife and you fit like a glove<br>That is no way to live, that is no way to love...  
>You're as bright as the sun and as bold as the moon<br>I don't know when you'll break but it's gonna' be soon..._

_And I won't tell the truth unless you want me to_.

* * *

><p><strong>1a<strong>

"_That scar..." She whispered, pressing her palm against his chest. She kept in her groans when he took hold of her leg and bent it toward her, angling her to meet his thrusts. "How...how did you get it?"_

"_Fight." He grunted, ducking his head as they both quickened their pace. The pressure built, steadily, and they were short of breath and their hearts beat in unison with their rising voices. In his haze, he saw her __back __arch with her palm pressing against the headboard to give her the extra push she needed, lips quivering as she struggled to swallow her cries. "Maka..."_

_She let out a pitched whine in reply, her fingers digging into the humid skin of his shoulder. "F-faster – faster, Soul!" She breathlessly gasped, meeting his thrusts with a mutual desperation._

_The moonlight cast a pale glow over the bed, illuminating their sweat-slick bodies as they performed the ritual older than either could fathom. With strangled cries, muscles aching with the flame of their passion, they gave into one another for the night; they crushed their mouths together with reckless abandon, they shuddered as the jarring impact of their release shook them both to the core._

_With trembling hearts, shaken breaths, they clung to each other – her neck a smooth curve, his lips leaving hot trails where they roamed. His fingertips would leave bruises on her skin when she awoke in the morning, her nails would leave new scars on his flesh when he looked in the mirror after a hot shower. _

"_That fight." Maka whispered, as she caught her breath. The muscles in her thighs would burn the next morning when she awoke, as they always did. "What was it for?"_

"_You're real persistent." Soul grinned briefly, resting his head on her shoulder as they both came down from their high. "Black Star and I used to be in this motorcycle gang when we were younger – stupid, I know." Soul added, upon hearing her breath catch. "We got in trouble because one of the members robbed a store, and he blamed 'Star since they'd always had a rivalry going on."_

"_Black Star isn't the easiest person to get along with." Maka admitted, knowing from experience. Only now was she beginning to put their differences aside to get along. _

"_You can say that again." Soul snorted, blinding reaching for the sheets. He pulled them out from under them, smiling slightly when Maka grunted and arched her body so he could pull out the sheets. He swung them over their joined bodies, going back to his makeshift pillow on the soft flesh of her neck. "Anyway, Black Star doesn't take shit from anyone. It was supposed to be a clean fight, but..."_

"_It wasn't?" Maka guessed._

"_He pulled a knife on him." Soul explained, with a heavy sigh. "I backed up Black Star and got the bad end of the deal. Some of the other guys ended up grabbing me and that bastard cut right down my chest with the knife before 'Star lost it. If it hadn't been for the bartender and the boss, Black Star would have killed him."_

"_He... he was that out of control?" Maka asked, tentatively. It painted a frightening picture, Black Star with that wide grin and cold eyes. _

"_He's all bark, no bite, most of the time, Maka." Soul said, quietly. "He comes off as this big guy, but he just has a complex from being put down a lot when he was a kid. Don't get me wrong: he'll kick your ass if you call him out on it, but he's a good friend in the end. He has his heart in the right place, that's all."_

"_Well, with the way he acts, he doesn't convince me!" Maka stubbornly said, his chuckles reverberating within her own chest cavity. It felt nice, she noticed, to have his laughs vibrate with her pounding heart. _

"_You're just being stubborn." He leaned up, his hand cupping her cheek; stroking her flushed cheeks which darkened in color upon her noticing his unusually soft crimson eyes. "You've got your heart in the right place, too."_

"_You, too." Maka quietly said, staring into those clean-cut ruby eyes of his. They seemed to refract the bright moonlight, casting an array of ringlets and flecks within them. It was enchanting. "You just like hiding behind that cool attitude of yours."_

"_You shouldn't be talking." A sharp, crooked, grin made her feel short of breath again. "Out of the both of us, you're the one least likely to open up to me."_

"_I... have no reason to."_

_He was silent for a moment, breathing her in just as she did, before he said: "I can give you a reason to."_

"_That – that doesn't mean I will!"_

"_You can try."_

_Maka dropped her eyes, unable to stare into such open eyes. She saw things she didn't want to see; she felt things she didn't want to feel. She was only more aware of their joint bodies, how natural it felt to have him hovering over her; to feel his heated skin press against her own. _

"_...Okay..." It came out pitifully; barely escaping the borders of her lips, barely able to hear it herself. Yet he heard it, he must have heard it, because he kissed her but it was different this time._

_It lacked ravenous passion._

_It was soft and sweet and so unlike anything she had ever felt before._

_And when he pulled away, his fingers caressing down her cheek to her neck to the curves of her breasts, she saw what made her both freeze and swell with hope; both petrify and revive._

_She saw love._

_And it scared her just as much as it thrilled her._

* * *

><p><strong>1b<strong>

"I – I do not know, Hiro-san, Maka-chan is very private about her relationships – !"

"So she _is _going out with that idiot?" Hiro hounded Tsubaki outside of the gym, cornering the girl who could only bow her head and tremble under his furious stare. "What the hell? When did this happen?"

"I don't know..."

"You _do _know! You two know _everything_ about each other!"

"Not anymore we don't!" Tsubaki protested but immediately subdued upon catching his irked look. "We... we haven't been speaking all that much recently. M-Maka-chan is very busy with her college courses and I have my own things to sort out as well..."

"Damn it!" Hiro cursed, turning away from the timid girl in a fury. He ran his fingers through his hair, rubbing away at his forehead in frustration. He was at a loss as to what to do. He had never been caught up in a situation where he could not get a hold of the girl he liked. "What does she see in that freak... he's not good for her! He's a bad influence – have you seen that guys teeth? He totally got those sharpened or something! And his hair – who dyes their hair _white_?"

"Um... I believe those are all natural character traits, Hiro-san..."

"_What_? Then he's a _freak_!" Hiro snarled. Tsubaki flinched. "Maka is going out with a _freak_!"

"He...he is very nice and understanding – !"

"Nice?" He rudely interrupted her. Tsubaki bit her lip, rubbing her arm uneasily. "Because that's the only way a freak like him can even get _laid_! He's taking advantage of Maka's kindness – damn it, how did I let this happen? Doesn't she realize that freak _Soul_ is no good for her? Even his _name _is weird!"

"Oi, what's this I hear about Soul being a freak?" Someone drawled from behind Hiro, and he turned quickly. He automatically noticed his outrageous hair – aquamarine blue, spiked in the vague shape of a star – before noticing the turquoise eyes that gazed back at him coolly, with an inhumane quality that disturbed him. They shifted to Tsubaki for a split-second, her hunched and miserable form, before narrowing and frowning deeply at him. "What's going on here?"

"Black Star, it's nothing, we're just discussing – !"

"You friends with that Soul guy?" Hiro boldly asked.

"Yeah, what of it?"

"Then I have nothing to say to you." Hiro sneered, walking away from them both. "Not surprising freaks would hang out with freaks."

"Hey, you wanna' say that to my face, you bastard?" Black Star snarled, his eyes sparking like flint. He reached out to grab his arm, to show him he had no chance of beating him a fight, when Tsubaki leaped and grabbed onto his hand, pressing it against her chest instead. Needless to say, the fact that his hand was being _squished _to her _soft assets _was enough to disorientate him; diffuse his rage.

About _everything._

It was amazing how a woman's body could render him incapable of even the most basic functions.

Even Hiro's reply was tuned out: he focused on his hand, pressed, now that he thought about it, right between her boobs. And it felt _nice_.

"...cannot tell Soul-san about this! Maka-chan will be so angry if she hears what Hiro's been up to!" Tsubaki fretted. "She's _just _been able to let go of him and have a shot at being _happy_! I don't want him to ruin that for her – I haven't seen her happy in a long time and I think Soul-san can fix that!"

"...Tsubaki..."

"Yes?" Tsubaki reacted instantly, hopefully. Perhaps he had an idea? Tsubaki knew Black Star was quite intelligent although he didn't show it. A lot of the time. But he was intelligent, she promised.

Black Star stared seriously into her eyes.

His fingers twitched but he didn't dare move.

"... What cup size are you?"

Tsubaki had never been more grateful for Maka's infamous 'Maka Chop' as she dragged a half-coherent Black Star across the parking lot to his car, said boy clutching his aching head and wondering how Soul dealt with this abuse whenever he opened his big mouth.

* * *

><p><strong>A.N: <strong>I love Black Star. That kid is hilarious.

Oh, my, Maka giving Soul a chance? Hm, wonder how that'll work out...

Oh, Hiro, he's finally realizing he lost something good. Too bad Soul hates sharing.

This final arc, by the way, will be longer chapter-wise. Word-wise, a few chapters may be long, but they will not exceed 3000 words. Just because I have a lot to say and I have to moderate it, you guys should know that by now. I think I'm the only author in this particular fandom who can cram 30,000 words into two chapters and post up a 6,000 word story the next day XD I don't know whether to be proud of that or not.

_Scarlett._


	2. Chapter 2

**Freefall  
>by. <strong>_Poisoned Scarlet_

* * *

><p><strong>2a<strong>

* * *

><p>"Wait a second, can you repeat that?" Maka squawked, stunned. The packet of sugar in her hand nearly fell in her coffee at her friends offhanded comment.<p>

"...I am not dating Black Star. He is my boy friend." Tsubaki repeated, unsure of herself now. She ran the tip of her finger over the rim of her cup timidly, as her friend stared at her with that scrutinizing, bewildered, look in her eye. "Ah, I mean... he is a boy who is my friend?"

"Tsubaki, that doesn't make him your boyfriend." Maka slumped back in her chair, thoughtful. "That makes him your _friend_. Boyfriend is a totally different thing. You can't use that word to describe someone like Black Star..." Maka pursed her lips at the thought of him. "Maybe moron or arrogant but definitely not boyfriend... who'd want to date that idiot?"

"Oh, no, did I say something wrong again?" Tsubaki panicked. Never was there a time when English could have failed her any worse than it had there. Briefly, she contemplated speaking less Japanese in informal settings. "I called him that once!"

"What did he do?"

"He just... looked at me strangely then he laughed." Tsubaki mumbled, heart rushing to her cheeks. Tsubaki bowed her head, shutting her eyes in embarrassment. "That must have been why! _Oh_, I can't believe I said that! I'm so stupid, how could I have forgotten something so important?"

"Well, we hardly use it! Even when I was with Hiro, we hardly used that word!" Maka tried to assuage her embarrassment although it only made Tsubaki slump further into her seat with humiliation. "D – don't worry about it, Tsubaki, Black Star hasn't tried anything on you, right?"

Tsubaki shook her head.

"Then maybe he understood what you meant!"

There was a brief silence.

"No, not likely."

"You're right. I'll call Soul for damage control."

"Thank you_ so much_ Maka-chan..."

* * *

><p><strong>2b<strong>

"She's from Japan?" Soul asked, a few hours after recieving an emergency call from Maka for 'damage control'. He devoured the ice-cream cone he had bought within seconds. "Explains the accent." He swallowed. "And the fact that she totally led Black Star on."

Maka rolled her eyes, eating her own cone at a much slower pace. She scooted until her back rested against the bark of the tree at the park, her eyes automatically rising to the bright blue sky. The branches that caved in with the tree shaded her from the intense sunlight enough to admire the clouds. It was such a leisure day, she couldn't have spent it any other way, she found herself thinking.

"Don't blame her too much – she's not from here. Her English is advanced but there are times when she confuses certain words. She's been speaking a lot more Japanese around Black Star and me, too, so it's not surprising her English is a little rusty."

"You can speak Japanese?" Soul asked, surprised.

"You didn't know that?" Maka bit into the cone of her ice-cream while Soul waited for her to continue. "I'm half Japanese, Soul. My mama is Japanese, but my papa is American. I was raised in Japan for a few years before I moved here with them. And my mama always spoke to me in my native tongue at home although I was learning English at school."

"Huh, I didn't know that." Soul mused. "That's cool."

Maka smiled. "What about you? Do you know another language?"

"English, Italian and French." Soul replied absently, overlooking Maka's slack jaw. "What?"

"You know _three _languages?"

"Yeah, my mom made me take a bunch of courses when I was a kid." Soul yawned, nonchalant. "Dads American, moms French. Plus, learning Italian would help me understand most of the vocab when I was learning how to play the piano."

"Wow..." Maka trailed off, impressed although she was quick to look away before he noticed. "Your parents invested a lot in your education."

"I guess."

There was a brief silence, as Maka focused on finishing her ice-cream cone and Soul gazed distantly at the sky, lost in thought.

"You... what do you do for a living?" Maka asked, hesitantly. "I never bothered to ask, but...now I'm curious."

"I work for Death Jam Records." Soul replied, grinning at her blank look. He wasn't surprised she didn't know the company: her musical taste was enough to tell him she didn't bother much with those things. "It's a major recording company, Maka, let's just leave it at that. My dad is CEO, so he gave me a job after I graduated. I'm on break right now since a few of the bands are on tour and I don't wanna' deal with the others..."

"You're certified already?"

"Since I turned twenty one." Soul yawned again. At Maka's disbelief, he added with a wicked smirk: "I bribed Wes to do my homework. I tried on the exams. Kinda'." He shrugged at her dry look. "I always got at least a _B_."

"A B isn't good enough." Maka firmly stated, ignoring his roll of eyes at her nerdy statement. "Wow, you have your life all planned – wait... twenty one? Soul, how old are you?"

Soul slowly looked at her. "...why?"

"Because I don't know!" Maka straightened, leaning toward him eagerly. "Soul, how old are you? I can't believe I don't know! You know my age but yours..."

"How old do I _look_?"

"Twenty twoish?" Maka guessed, unsurely.

He grinned, cockily. "Then that's my age."

"No, that can't be! You said you graduated when you were twenty one – you...you graduated early, actually..." Maka left off, with a jealous glare. It didn't settle well with her that such a slacker had somehow managed to graduate earlier than herself.

"Connections make the world go 'round." Soul smirked, haughty.

"How old are you?"

"I already told you."

"Ugh, when were you born?"

"Not falling for that."

"Soul! What's your age!" Maka demanded, with an edge of fury. "My papa would _kill_ you if he found out you're twice my age!"

Soul suddenly scowled. "Hey, that's insulting. Are you calling me old?"

"SOUL!"

"_Relax_." Soul drawled, leaning sideways on his hand. Maka stared, mystified, when he leaned up and licked the corner of her lip of vanilla ice-cream, eventually catching her lips. The cone, half-way through, cracked a little in her hand, and her heart drummed out any other noise except his breath when they parted to breathe and how the grass shifted against his pants when he moved closer to her. "Does age matter that much to you?"

"No..." She breathed, dazed.

"Then what's the big deal?" Soul reached for her hand, successful with his distracting, and ate the remainder of her ice-cream without a moment to waste.

It took Maka a few long seconds to realize what had just happened.

"You – you just ate my ice-cream!"

"You were lagging to eat it. It was melting already."

"But I was _going_ to eat it! Give it back!" Maka demanded fiercely while he chewed with that cocky glint in his eye. "Buy me another one!"

"No, you'll get fat – OW!"

"Go! Buy! Me! Another one! Damn it!" Maka enunciated every word with a punch to his shoulder, watching with hidden pleasure as he choked on her ice-cream before finally swallowing, breathing heavily and staring wide-eyed at her.

"Woman, you could have _killed_ me!"

"I know CPR."

Soul glared before wiping the edge of his sleeve against his mouth. "I'll buy you another one later, the ice-cream guy isn't going anywhere." He added, before she could protest. He laid back on the floor with a wide yawn. The grass felt humid, the sun hot on his clothes, but the shade the tree provided was enough for him to gaze up into the sky without much problem.

"By the way." Soul said, after a few minutes of comfortable silence while Maka read the book she brought with her, grumbling under her breath. "I'm twenty four."

* * *

><p><strong>A.N: <strong>I mentioned somewhere in Quicksand that Tsubaki and Black Star were an 'item'. But that was in _Maka's _POV, and Tsubaki is a native from Japanese and her _Ingrish_ is rusty ;D

Haha, fun times ahead.

_Scarlett._


	3. Chapter 3

**Freefall  
>by. <strong>_Poisoned Scarlet_

* * *

><p><strong>3a<strong>

* * *

><p>"Aw, shit, don't do this to me..." Soul groaned under his breath, staring moodily at the vending machine. He pressed the button again, scowling when nothing came out. "Damn it, c'mon." He pressed it a few more times before giving up and aiming a hard kick to the side. Something bumped inside, clamoring down the chute, and he gave it another hard kick. "Ha, success!" He reached down to take out his soda when he heard footsteps approach him.<p>

The footsteps were speedy, rigid.

Soul knew that type of sound anywhere: he'd been around it more times than naught, when he and Black Star were juvenile and immature and they'd joined that waste-of-time motorcyclist gang because they perceived it as 'cool'.

Being in a gang came with a few benefits, though: it sharpened one instincts, and taught you the ropes of the underworld, things that had saved his life more than once.

"Got a problem?" Soul asked, coolly, when Hiro strode up to him. He opened his can of soda while Hiro spoke:

"Yeah, I do, actually. I want to know what's going on between you and Maka." Hiro demanded. "I want the truth."

"What's it to you?" Soul deflected, taking a long drink. "It's none of your business anymore."

Hiro pinked but narrowed his eyes, growling: "I'm concerned about her, that's why! I went out with her for a long time, so I care about her! And I don't want her dating some – freak like you! You'll ruin her!"

"_Ruin_ her?" Soul snarled, his eyes darkening. "Like you should be fucking talking – _I _wasn't the one who cheated on her after knowing what she went through!"

Hiro furrowed his brows. "What she went through?" Then he pressed his lips together, adding roughly: "And those times – we were on a _break_! It didn't count as cheating – I've _never_ cheated on Maka!"

"You're so full of shit." Soul sneered. He crushed the can in his hand, tossing it into a nearby trash-bin. "And if you don't know what I'm talking about, then it's probably for the best. You'd feel like a _real_ shithead if you did." A twisted grin marred his face, as he added: "And at least now we _both_ know just which one of us matters the most to her. I'll give you a hint: it's not the idiot in the leather pants."

And Soul walked past him calmly, his hands jammed in his jacket's pockets, smirking when Hiro turned around and cursed him out.

But it didn't matter.

He got the last laugh.

* * *

><p><strong>3b<strong>

Two weeks later found him spinning a key ring in his finger, watching the keys _clink_ and _clank_ idly while Maka dug around her backpack fervently for her own.

"You want me to open it instead? It'll be a lot faster," Soul drawled, but he didn't wait for her reply before he stuck the key into the keyhole and opened her apartment door. He smirked and gestured her in, earning a look.

"I gave you those keys because I'm leaving to visit my mama for a week in Tokyo." Maka reminded him, firmly. "_Not _for your own entertainment!"

"Doesn't mean I _can't_ use them for my own entertainment," Soul sniggered. His eyes landed on the cat that padded up to Maka and wove between her legs affectionately before galloping toward him and doing the same. "Hey, Blair."

"Just be sure to feed her twice a day, and change her litter box every other day." Maka told him, running to her room. "And _only _come in to feed her and clean her litter box! I don't want you coming in here, dirtying up the place, because you're too lazy to go back to your own apartment, Soul!"

He nodded with a roll of his eyes, following after he picked up her cat, scratching between her ears and watching Maka open her luggage and sift through it again for the sixth time. She was just too strung up: he'd have to fix that.

Stress wasn't good for the body or mind, Soul knew.

"Maka, it'll be fine. You didn't forget anything – you made me go through the list _three_ times." Soul rolled his eyes. "Remember?"

"I'm just making sure I don't forget anything!" Maka hastily told him, zipping up the bag. She placed it on the floor by her bed, wringing her hands. She would be leaving tonight and she was a wreck of nerves. When her mama abruptly invited her over to Tokyo, via her papa, claiming she had a very big surprise for her, Maka had grinned so widely it hurt her cheeks.

Soul had told her she looked like an idiot.

She hadn't cared; too excited she would be seeing her mother again. After so many years, she would see her again; she was in _contact _with her again! So many things had gone through her mind in that instant: how was she now? Why had she suddenly cut ties with her, had it been intentional or accidental? Had she _changed_ at all? Was she still as recluse and detached as she remembered her to be...? What was this 'big surprise'? Was there _any_ way they could repair their broken relationship...?

Maka pushed away years of hurt in favour of looking forward to a seemingly bright future.

Things were being fixed by themselves, slowly but surely.

_No, _Maka thought, calming for the slightest bit. _Things have been looking up ever since Soul... _But she pushed the thought away for later and fixed her gaze on her nightstand.

"Maybe I should bring my alarm clock – ?"

"Maka, you don't need an alarm clock. You have a cellphone, remember? Just use that." Soul reminded, firmly. He dropped Blair, the cat mewing and bouncing away back down the hall, and came up behind Maka, pressing his hands firmly on her shoulders. "You'll be _fine_. Jeez, you're just going to see your mom. It's not like you're getting married or something."

Maka frowned at that. "I haven't seen my mom in a long time, Soul..." She dropped her eyes, fidgeting with the hem of her skirt suddenly. It was starting to really set in, now that she had only a few hours to go before meeting her. "I-I don't know what to expect. It's been...so long..."

"You'll be fine." He whispered into her ear, eliciting an involuntary shiver. "Just keep it cool." His hands ran down her arms, gripped her hips. She stiffened when she realized there was no space between them anymore: his chest pressed against her back, she could feel the pound of his heart and hear his ragged breathing.

Maka swallowed. "Soul..."

"A week is a long time." Soul continued nonchalantly, hooking his fingers on the waistband of her skirt. She felt him tug it down but she made no move to stop him, captivated by the husky drawl of each word he spoke: "What am I supposed to do for a week? I haven't hung out with my friends since I met you..."

"Th-then meet up with them and – !" She jumped when her skirt pooled around her ankles, conscious of how his hands hovered before they ran up under her shirt; across her flat stomach, dragging the shirt up over her head with excruciating slowness. " – and do whatever you used to do before... before me."

"Hanging out with them..." Soul grabbed the cups of her bra and pushed them up, allowing her breasts to fall into his hand. They fit in them exactly, her nipples pert in his fingers. "... isn't much fun anymore. You're cooler." She cried out when his teeth bit into her neck, his tongue running over the swollen skin like a seal. "Even if you spend all your time reading books and nagging me."

Maka reached up and pulled on a tuft of hair, warningly.

His chuckles reverberated in the cavity of her chest, reminding her just how nice it felt to have someone.

And when all her clothes were off and he pressed a hand over her eyes and his breath tickled her neck with murmured words that made her heart thunder in her ears, Maka realized something that she hadn't before.

She would miss him - more than she would miss any one else in her small circle of friends.

But she pushed that thought away for later, too.

The last thing she needed were her complicated emotions ruining whatever it was they both had together...

* * *

><p><strong>A.N: <strong>Considering the number of reviews I got regarding her age: Maka's age is mentioned in _Stopgap, _the Blair chapter. Remember? Blair thought she was sixteen, heh, but she _wasn't_. It was my favourite chapter to write out of all of them – well, not really... It's hard to choose. I had fun with all of them.

I noticed this entire last arc is much steamier than the other two combined. What the hell is up with that? Man, that's weird (why, yes, she has at least six chapters already written right now. Problem? Haha!) And, for the record, Soul and Maka have a weird... friendship... thing going on. I plan on developing this further in the next chapters, worry not. Right now, they're stuck in a physical relationship, but its slowly transitioning into something more, if any of you have noticed (I hope or else I fail).

Oh, and FFN is being glitchy again. I can't reply to any of your reviews. I keep getting this 404, '_link is expired', _crap x.x

_Scarlett._


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Call of Duty: Modern Warfare. _

**Freefall  
>by. <strong>_Poisoned Scarlet_

* * *

><p><strong>4a<strong>

* * *

><p><em><span>Why<span> did I hang out with these faggots again? _Soul brooded, watching one of them wrangle another down to the floor, the others laughing uproariously at their mock fight. He heaved a sigh, sitting back in his booth, tapping his fingers to a silent beat on the worn leather.

So far, many of his old friends had come up to talk to him. It was mainly casual things, such as how life had been and what he had been up to, and it usually ended in the other person walking away in disinterest given his short replies; as usual, only this time he had a reason for it.

He did_ not_ want to be there, that much was obvious to any bystander. He'd rather be at home watching a movie or playing some video games or maybe sifting through the new bands he'd have to interview soon...

_Why_ had he listened to Maka again?

Because she had an unnerving way of getting him to listen to her, that's why.

He told himself it was because getting chopped on the head with a book was agonizing.

He only partially believed that.

"Well, well, look what the cat dragged in."

Soul looked up to a pair of baggy cargo pants, a torso bandaged heavily along with parts of her face. He could catch glimpses of the old burn scars she bore underneath when she shifted, her short dreadlocks hiding the rest by her forehead. Her dark brown eyes glittered with amusement, as he remembered them to.

She hadn't changed a bit in all these months.

"Soul Eater! Here I thought you decided you were too _cool_ to hang out with us anymore." Mira Nygus jabbed, smirking underneath the heavy load of bandages. She was a tall woman, built like a soldier with her muscled arms and toned abdomen and strict attitude. But she was a good friend; one of the few who hadn't abandoned him when he'd been struck with that knife across the chest. "What've you been up to? Haven't seen you around for a while, kid."

"Well, y'know, when you're as cool as _me_, everyone wants a piece of you." Soul drawled, earning a chuckle from the woman.

"Arrogant as ever, I see." Nygus mused. She slipped her platter under her arm, shifting into a more comfortable position. The restaurant that doubled as a bar was as raucous as ever; laughter and chatter exploding from all ends. "What have you _really _been up to? And don't bring up your job: we both know you'd rather sleep all day than deal with that shit."

Soul stretched in his seat, nonchalant. "Just the usual stuff. Been here and there."

"That doesn't answer my question."

Boldly, he stated: "Maybe I don't wanna' answer your question."

"You usually have no problem answering them." Nygus flatly said, but Soul remained unfazed. Her voice lowered. "Something up?"

"Nope."

Nygus, by now, was frowning underneath her bandages. Soul could tell by the creases in the white linen. "Well, I'm not one to pry. Whatever you're up to now is your own business. You're not longer apart of the family, after all."

Soul scowled at that. The gang hadn't been much of a family to him; more like a part-time job, something to do when he had absolutely nothing else to take his time. Which had been _often_, as he refused to touch a piano until his father got off his sack. That didn't happen any time soon, so he reserved all his time for the jobs that needed to be done within the criminal ring.

She suddenly chuckled, as a funny thought crossed her mind. "You're being awfully secretive, though. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you finally got yourself a girl and you don't want us to know about her."

Silence reigned – not the casual _ha ha that's funny _silence but something loaded; strained.

Her astonishment was clear in the way her brows rose beyond her hairline and the platter nearly fell from under her arm.

"You're kidding."

"I didn't say anything."

"Wait a second, when did _you_ start dating again?" Nygus demanded, squinting at him. "Thought you swore off girls after the last one."

Soul ground his teeth in annoyance. "I _never_ said I swore off girls. I just said I wouldn't make the same mistake again." He didn't like thinking, much less talking, about _that_ waste of time. Although he had been let off easy, as he hadn't cared for her enough to really get hurt, the entire idea of being used for ones income and social status hadn't settled well with him. Also factoring in that his last girlfriend had the balls to flirt around with other guys while he sat _right there,_ watching; irritated she even had the nerve to do so.

He hadn't dated for the simple reason that he hadn't found someone worthwhile, interesting, different... until now.

And they weren't even dating.

At least, Soul didn't _think_ so. Maka was very ambiguous about their entire relationship, often changing the topic when he brought it up. He hadn't pushed it, content with what they had, but now he was beginning to second-guess himself about the stability of their strange relationship.

"Who is she?"

"None of your business."

"Is that who you've been spending all your time with?"

"Fuck off."

Nygus grinned, pleased with herself. "You can't hide it from me, Soul. I've known you since you were fresh out of high school! I know that look."

"_What_ look?" Soul snapped, fixing his friend with a hard stare. But Nygus remained unfazed by his glower, going as far as leaning against the table and placing her chin in her palm thoughtfully. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Whoever this girl is, she must be a real piece of work if she managed to nab _you _of all people." Nygus commented offhandedly, watching him carefully for anything that might give him away. And, boy, had that girl really softened him up. Nygus caught the twitch of his lip, the lightening of his eyes, instantly.

Normally, Soul would have remained impassive. There would be nothing that would indicate he had even _heard _you. His poker face was admirable, at most. So this sudden flash of emotion piqued her curiosity: the Soul _she_ knew was a cunning, twisted, bastard who was able to con any one out of their cash faster than they could use up their 160 characters on their precious phones.

It was what made him so useful to many ally gang leaders: the charisma the kid had was insane, his way with words impressive. He was also flexible, able to execute many jobs without much trouble, and combined with Black Star, who was just as cunning (if not more) and packed with years of weight training and mixed martial arts, they were a formidable duo.

_The brains of the operation, the brawns who always botched it. _Nygus chuckled to herself, remembering those easier, yet more dangerous, years. Soul sure had grown since then, having given up his rank a few months after the accident, and turned officially to his day job at the record company.

Nygus let her eyes stray to his chest, to the scar she knew was underneath his shirt. She remembered trying to stop the bleeding but it had still run down his pants – his shoes, the cement, the edge of that knife – and that pained, _ridiculous_, grin on his face when he rasped, "_I guess I won't be goin' to Vegas with you guys after all"_ before he lost consciousness and Black Star lost it.

Whoever this girl was, Nygus told herself, she was something special because Soul "Eater" Evans did _not_ fold so easily; not after all the shit he had been through, he didn't.

"Whatever. I'm outta' here. This isn't my scene anymore." Soul looked distastefully at the roughhousing taking place somewhere by the bar area. He only caught loud claps and roars of laughter every time one of them was pinned. "Catch you later, mummy face."

"Watch it! Just 'cause you're not with us anymore doesn't mean I can't beat on you." Nygus shot back with a friendly wave. "Don't be a stranger – bring that girl with you next time, will you? I'd like to meet her."

Soul paused, shouting over his shoulder: "Like hell! You'll scare the shit out of her. She isn't built for this type of place!"

"Well, if she's going out with _you_, she's gotta' have _some _backbone, right?"

Soul inwardly agreed with her.

* * *

><p><strong>4b<strong>

It had only been two days at most.

And he had already run out of patience for his hyperactive friend.

"Shut the_ fuck up,_ Black Star!" Soul exploded, sending him a nasty look he only ignored. Black Star continued to ramble full-speed about the new set of swords that Tsubaki's father would send him for training. "I don't care about some dumb sword – how the hell did you even convince him to let you borrow them? They sound expensive... and old. And old stuff is usually worth a lot. I would know, half the shit at my parents house is worth thousands."

"Tsubaki told him about my clan and it convinced him to let me borrow them." Black Star boasted. "The Star clan is pretty big over there, y'know? Combat-wise, anyway. We're the best of the best, _as_ expected." He grinned, cockily. "_No one_ can beat us! Hyahaha!"

"Of course." Soul rolled his eyes. "Anyway, when are the swords comin' in?"

"Oh, so _now_ you're interested, huh? I _knew_ you were listening – man, they're so awesome! Tsubaki's dad is the _shit_ – he's got all of these other weapons, too, like chain scythes and machetes! I wanna' get my hands on that Katana, though..." He grinned, clenching his hand in anticipation. "It looks just right for someone as amazing as me..."

"Yeah, yeah, just answer my question already." Soul yawned, reclining on the couch as his friend started up his PS3. "_Before_ I fall asleep."

"Nu uh! You ain't falling asleep! You're playing me. You ready to eat shit, Soul?" Black Star tossed him a controller and Soul flicked the joystick idly, not in the mood for video games. Instead, his eyes strayed to the clock and he wondered, absently, what Maka was doing at the moment; what time it was over there; how she was adjusting. He had sent her off with an uncomfortable twist in his gut, as he thought of the possible turmoil she could sink into should her meeting with her mother not go as expected.

She still hadn't called.

He hadn't tried.

And calling a girl _just_ to check up with her sounded _so_ lame...

"Hey! Are you playing or not?"

"What game?"

"Modern Warfare."

"Nah, that games so overplayed it's not even funny." Soul yawned widely and sunk deeper into the couch, deciding to prop his legs up on the armrest as well. He might as well make himself comfortable; it wasn't as if he had any other place to be at the moment. "It got too mainstream. It's not cool anymore."

"What're you talking about? This game was _built_ for gods!" Black Star cackled, scrolling through a few options on the screen. He selected one player mode, knowing Soul wasn't going to join when he was in his, as he dubbed them, 'sissy moods'. "You just can't appreciate it since you're not as _great_ as me!"

"The question, Black Star?" Soul prompted, reminding him of his unanswered question about when the swords would come in. "I'm already fallin' asleep..."

"Huh, what're you talkin' about?" Black Star blinked, having already forgotten. "What question?"

"Forget it." He sighed. After a second or two, he asked: "Hey, what's up between you and Tsubaki? Finally got over when I told you she didn't mean it like that?"

Black Star's mood embittered instantly, his spirit for gaming deflating. He spat out: "She's my _friend_. She made it clear the first day we met – there's nothing going on between us. She just got a few words mixed up, that's all... but I bet she _wishes _we were something, I mean, _c'mon_!" He added, arrogantly. "Who _doesn't _want me?"

Soul gave him a leveled look before turning on his back.

"Bet that's what _you_ want." Soul mumbled, closing his eyes.

Black Star, for once, did not reply.


	5. Chapter 5

**Freefall  
>by. <strong>_Poisoned Scarlet_

* * *

><p><em><strong>5a<strong>_

* * *

><p>He gave up honorably by day four (and by honorably, he meant groaning very loudly and getting his butt off the couch to dial her number).<p>

He went to great lengths to keep his cellphone away from him, going as far as leaving it uncharged so he did not have the temptation of dialing her number. But, after various hours of struggling with his conflicting thoughts, Soul charged his phone and called her the instant the battery was full again.

Turned out she was going to call him later that evening to 'check up' on her cat Blair and her apartment although Soul had the sneaking suspicion it wasn't _just _because of that.

She was a bad liar. She stuttered too much and she rambled.

But Soul wouldn't call her out on it – no need to fix something that could very well be useful to him in the future, right?

"_...and she said the wedding is going to be near December. She wants it to be on Christmas, but she's not sure she'll be able to book it in time since it's a very popular date. But if she can't, she'll settle for early November. She wants it to be this year, though. One way or another, she's marrying him._" She sounded flat as she told him this; not bubbly as usual, not even moderately happy. She simply sounded neutral; as if it did not matter whether or not her mother remarried. But Soul knew it did matter; knew she was hurting, and it was times like these that he actually wished he were there with her and not so many thousands of miles away from her.

"That's great. She's getting remarried." Soul mumbled without much enthusiasm, sitting on his bike as the sun rose in his own town. He was going out for coffee, a suggestion (_demand_) Maka had made when she realized all he had been doing the past few days was lazing around his couch, watching basketball games or glaring at his phone – both because he wanted to call her (not that she knew this) and because of his job at the record company. The sky bled pink and orange, the air remaining crisp and cold, and he huddled in his jacket as he spoke: "How did you take it? It's been a while since you last saw your mom and then she tells you she's getting hitched again..."

"_It was... weird at first. I didn't expect her to contact me just because... she's getting married and she wants me to be her ring girl._" Soul knew the news hit her hard. It was just in her tone: tight, controlled. His mother would use that tone when he asked why their father had locked himself up in his study again. "_But it makes sense she'd give it another shot – she deserves that much, right?_"

"Yeah, she didn't have the best marriage. Your dad cheated on her a lot, maybe this time it'll be better." His tone darkened. "Maybe this time she'll realize she wasn't that innocent herself, too."

"_... What're you talking about, Soul_?"

"You _know_ what I'm talking about." Soul frowned. When she began to furiously reply, he sighed in resignation. "Look, I don't wanna' fight right now. Let's just forget I even said that!" He rubbed his eyes out tiredly. "Having a bad week..."

"_Why? Are you okay? Did something happen?_"

The concern in her voice made him smile. "Nah, just a bunch of trouble at the company with the bands. They're not recording their songs on time because they're not coming in. I get the blame, y'know, if the album comes out late. It's my responsibility to make sure the bands record all their songs on time, but they didn't give us enough time. I mean, they _just_ got back from a tour, they're hung over and sleep deprived." He heaved another sigh. "So uncool..."

When she giggled, trying to lift his spirits with her positive view, he was idly surprised it _worked _since he _knew _such blind optimism was for naïve, sheltered, children. He didn't usually let such words get to him, knowing that getting your hopes up was a dangerous risk. It was better to view the cup as half-empty instead of half-full. Life had taught him so.

Yet he caught his smile on one of the metal plates on his bike when he dismounted.

He stood silently for a second, hearing the vague sound of a page turning on the other line, before he bluntly said:

"It's boring here without you."

There was a short silence.

"_Yeah... I miss you, too, Soul._"

"Hey, I never said I missed you..."

"_Wha – don't be a jerk!_" She furiously shouted when she caught his snicker. "_You sound so miserable without me: all you've been doing is lazing around and complaining about your job! At least when I'm there, you're not whining like a six year old!_"

"Maybe, but that doesn't mean I _miss_ you..."

"_Fine. I take it back. I don't miss you, either. It's been GREAT here without you! I don't have to constantly REMIND everyone not to leave their trash on the coffee table or __boxers__ on the bathroom __floor__!_"

"_Drop it_, will you? _You're _the reason my boxers are always on the floor!" Soul grumbled, laughing when she sputtered. He wondered if anyone else was watching her over there: her pink face, fiery emerald eyes, the way her lips pursed when she was annoyed.

"_Shut up, Soul, or else I really will hit you when I see you in three days!"_

And, just like that, his week brightened.

* * *

><p><strong>5b<strong>

That same day found him back with Nygus, the woman sending him looks that bothered him. They were too amused, too knowing, as if she had been there to witness every uncool, lame, thing he did for a girl who started off as nothing more than someone to release the weeks tension with.

"How's work?"

"Shit."

"That bad?"

"Yeah. They're not taking this stuff seriously. It's giving me a headache. It's either I give them an ultimatum or I kick their asses outta' my studio." Soul grumbled, his chin on the table. He held a shot glass which Nygus faithfully refilled every time he emptied it. "Second option is tempting, but then that means writing up reports and getting another band in and that's a pain in the ass."

"Just get another band, you lazy idiot, it doesn't take that long. You've got the ear for it. Now, quit whining about your job and tell me about this girl you've been seeing."

"For fucks sake, is that the _only _reason you're here?" Soul growled, shooting her a glare. She just refilled his shot glass and looked at him expectantly. He sighed when he saw she would not budge. "She's...her name's Maka."

"Maka? It's gotta' nice ring to it. Go on..."

"She's the most nerdiest, socially awkward, ridiculous, violent, girl I've ever met." Soul deadpanned and Nygus blinked, not expecting that. "She's always nagging me and she always hits me with her goddamn books. She's always _reading _something, too! She wears her hair in pigtails like a five year old and she puts homework before anything! It's insane, she _loves _homework. I bet she asks for it when the professor doesn't assign any!" Soul snorted at the thought. "Getting her out of the house to do something _fun _is like trying to control Black Star: nearly impossible. But she's... _different_. There's nothing superficial about her: she's the real deal. She doesn't bother hiding beneath faulty exteriors." He smiled, almost fondly. "She's got _soul_. I like that."

"Hmm..." Nygus hummed, scrutinizing his slight smile. When she deemed it genuine, she said: "Usually you have the girls coming after _you_, Soul, not the other way around. Never thought I'd see the day when your jaded ass finally fell hard for a girl."

"What're you talking about? I haven't fallen for her." Soul instantly denied. "Those bandages are preventing airflow from going to your brain, Nygus."

"Ha ha, that's funny. But you know I'm _right_." Nygus flashed him a fake smile. Despite the bandages, he could tell. "So suck it up: you fell, Soul. You're gone. Now the only question is: are you going to keep falling, are you going to pull the parachute, or are you going to hit the ground?" She picked up the platter full of vodka shots and martinis and ignored his dark look. "That girl – she sounds like she's got a lot of potential. You need someone to put you back in line every once in a while, in my opinion."

"Shut up, mummy face."

"Uh huh. But you know I'm right."

And she headed over to deliver the drinks while Soul stared into his shot glass intently before downing it; stubbornly thinking that all those years working in a bar, inhaling all that cigarette smoke and musty air, must have finally gotten to her.

Because there was absolutely _no way_ he could be falling for such a dorky, aggressive, girl.

"By the way, hun." Nygus said, sanguinely. "Your phones ringin'. I think that's her on the caller ID."

He instantly snatched the phone off the bar table, sending Nygus a lethal glare when he realized no one had called.

"_'Haven't fallen for her'_, my ass!" Nygus mimicked. "The sooner you realize you're done for, the sooner you can get your ass moving and give me some grandchildren." She grinned sarcastically.

"Fuck off, Nygus! That was below the belt!" Soul snarled. Nygus _knew _how much he loathed that line - which his parents said faithfully every year on his birthday, in nearly _every_ conversation they had - because of his age and the fact that he hadn't mentioned a girl since he was, what, eighteen?

His parents were paranoid. Nygus was a bitch. Maka was available. He was _screwed_.

"But seriously, she sounds nice. Smart, assertive.._. gimmie that phone!_ I bet you have a picture of her in there somewhere!" Nygus lunged for the phone but Soul quickly pocketed it, jumping away before she could grab him and force it out of him.

"And that's my cue to leave." Soul seethed. Nygus merely rose a brow, unfazed. "Gotta' write that stupid report and pick a band to interview."

"So you're taking my advice, huh? Good."

"It's my only option." Soul stubbornly insisted, earning an eye-roll from the woman who could pass for his sister if it weren't for her dark skin tone and the fact that she was covered head-to-toe in bandages - hence the mummy jab. Awkwardly, he added: "...And, well, Maka said it was a good idea to start _now_ while I have time..." Although he was _sure_ he'd end up putting it off until his father barked at him to get his ass moving.

"You're so pathetic."

"At least I don't look like a rotting corpse."

"At least I'm not the one in denial about what I want."

"Bitch."

"_Whipped_," Nygus smirked.

He left the bar with a scowl on his face, promising he'd get her back as she shook her head wryly and continued her rounds.

* * *

><p><strong>A.N: <strong>I know I'm dragging out Maka's absence, but I consider this 'break' as a time for them to really sort out their weird relationship. This time'll help give them both the bump they need in order to achieve that substantial relationship we're all waiting for :D

Fuck yeah, Nygus has a personality in this story! I still think she needs more screen time ._.

Soul's in _denial_. Don't worry, he'll get over it soon. He's too much of a realist to delude himself into thinking that what he has with Maka is nothing! Of course, Maka is a totally different story...

_Scarlett._


	6. Chapter 6

**Freefall  
>by. <strong>_Poisoned Scarlet_

* * *

><p><strong>6a<strong>

* * *

><p>Things were certainly <em>different<em>.

Maka had expected as much but it had been like a punch to her gut when she had first seen her mother - with that same smile, laugh, bright eyes, thin body - standing beside a tall man who offered his own polite smile when she approached them. They had been standing far too close; looked too comfortable with each other. Her mother had let her hand linger on his arm; he had nudged her to embrace Maka and watched with a strange, soft, glimmer in his chocolate colored eyes.

Maka knew even before her mother told her.

She had been more concerned about her father than her own tumultuous feelings, though: Spirit always brought up Kami when he took her out on their many father-daughter dates. Maka always felt resentful when he did, thinking _he doesn't deserve to look as if he loves her _because it was _his _fault she left in the first place.

But it was as Soul said: her mother was at fault here, too, something which Maka hadn't acknowledged until she caught sight of her engagement ring. Kami had practically _dumped_ her onto Spirit the instant the divorce papers were finalized. There was no reason for it yet she still did, with the claim of leaving to tour the world and 'reinvent' herself. Could she not have reinvented herself with Maka alongside her? Was she ashamed of looking at her, seeing all the familiar traits of her father in her? Had she really not loved her as much as she'd said that day before she left, or was it because she truly needed to roam the world on her own to build herself back to that proud woman she had been once before?

Maka would never know.

She would never ask such a personal question to a woman she barely even knew anymore.

"Do you have anyone waiting for you back in Death City, Maka?" Kami asked with a tense smile. They sat in the leather couches in her spacious living room, with Maka holding a glass of soda in her hand while her mother finished a cup of coffee. Kami had decorated her apartment in the Western style instead of the traditional Japanese one, but Maka didn't mind. It made it seem as if she were just visiting another person in the same town; not that she was thousands of miles away, surrounded by a culture she barely knew, away from everyone who mattered most to her.

But the few days spent under her roof were stressful.

Kami wasn't the same cold, no-nonsense, woman Maka remembered.

She was different, kinder, _softer_, somehow.

_Does love do this to people?_

Maka found herself wondering about this the entire time, watching her mother and her husband-to-be smile lovingly at one another; laugh at the most trivial things, like who stumbled on the rug or who accidentally spilled some juice on their shirt. The lingering touches, stolen kisses, the general _aura of happiness _that surrounded them, was something Maka wondered if Kami felt when she had been married to Spirit, her father.

Or was this completely different: once-in-a-lifetime? Extraordinary, _rare_?

Maka did not have it in her to ask, nor did she want to know the answer to it if she did.

"Anyone waiting...? Well, Tsubaki, my best friend, and – and all of my friends at college are going to miss me a bit. Or at least my notes." Maka added, with a small smile. Kami's own smile relaxed. "And Soul – !" She cut herself off brusquely, chiding herself for being so careless. He was a topic she wanted to avoid altogether when under the same roof as her mother, for the simple reason that she would ask about him and Maka would not know what to say because she didn't quite know, either.

"Soul? Such a strange name." Kami questioned, curious. And as Maka predicted: "Who's that?"

"He..." Maka hesitated. "He is..." The question made her blood run cold, faced with the challenge of answering that simple inquiry. Who _was_ Soul to her? There was no easy definition for what they had. He wasn't her husband or fiancée; calling him a boyfriend made it sound as if he were a teenage infatuation; lover only captured a fragment of what they shared; friend could never encompass all he meant to her...

He was the only person in her life, she thought with wonder, who seemed to defy description.

"He...is my partner."

"Partner?"

Maka stared into her glass, allowing the word to sink in. Partner: _one that is united or associated with another in an activity or area of common interest_. It was the only word that _fit_, that captured more than a glimpse of what they were both nurturing. But it went beyond that generalized definition: there was more to them that met the eye, and Maka was just beginning to understand this.

Her cellphone weighed like a block of lead in her back pocket.

The clock ticked louder than she remembered.

The calender nailed on the wall was starting to bug her in the way her eyes kept straying to it.

She kept thinking back to their conversation just a day ago, how he'd awkwardly composed his way of saying _I miss you _and how the words had left her lips so easily; like breathing, no hesitation and no thought.

"Yes. My partner." Within the carbonated drink, she saw the ceiling fan spin. The afternoon sunlight streamed against the walls, a rich golden, and the air was clean and warm and saturated with her mother's dulcet scent. It was unlike her own apartment, which was always dimly lit; always rather drafty, rather lonesome until he moved in, and which seemed to flourish with _his _refreshing smell now.

Everything was different in Tokyo, with her mother and her fiancée.

But different was not always better, as she set her sight to her mother and her concerned smile. She probably thought she liked him and they were dating, Maka deduced absently, and she had _no idea_ of the dreadful sin they had been committing this entire time.

Because they were _not_ dating. It had not been established, and Maka had avoided establishing their relationship like the plague.

But now she couldn't even remember why she avoided it so much.

She didn't wanted to continue living in limbo; living as if nothing were wrong and they were friends and nothing more.

Because things weren't so black and white anymore...

She didn't think she'd be able to play the part of indifferent lover anymore, not with how heavily she missed his presence; his jokes and snarky grins and how he always, always, _always _managed to piss her off one way or another. How he hovered without even knowing, scowled at people who were rude to her when she took him to the market (usually by force; he loved her couch), and how he made her feel safe when he wrapped her in his arms but subsequently ruined the mood by kissing her ear and laughing when she squeaked and tried to regain hearing by rubbing it out furiously.

"Partner...that's a very strong word, Maka." Kami commented, noticing the dreamy look her estranged daughter had. With a covert smile, she added: "He must mean a lot to you."

"...He does."

And she really did believe it this time.

* * *

><p><strong>6b<strong>

"C'mon, Soul, man up!" Black Star shouted over the pulsing bass, energetically bobbing his head to the beat. Soul leaned against the table, a drink in his hand for appearances' sake. "Nothing can stop you tonight! Maka's gone for another couple of days– it's just the two of us! In a _strip club_! You do the math." He smirked.

Soul snorted. "_I_ came because _you_ didn't wanna' go alone. That's all." He took another drink, as a scantly clad woman spun around a pole with her head thrown back in laughter, performing gymnastic feats that would leave a few wide-eyed. "Go do what you came to do and let's go – there's a game on tonight and I wanna' see it."

Black Star deflated. "You're always such a buzz kill when we come to places like this! Live a little, would you?"

He ignored that. "Hey, look." Soul gestured toward a beautiful blond with a curling smile and twinkling hazel eyes. "She's looking straight at you. Go for it." She would be pretty, if her hands weren't so soiled with the filth of her job. He watched Black Star shoot her a haughty grin, receiving a coy smile in return, and rolled his eyes when he swaggered up to her and whispered something that had her giggling and nodding happily in reply.

"How about _you _just _go for it_!" Black Star told him the instant he came back, holding that girl by the waist. She smiled flirtatiously at Soul but he ignored her. "You told me you and Maka were just fucking around, and she ain't here right now. So, what's the big deal?"

"An STD, maybe?"

"All our girls are checked weekly." The girl pipped up, sweetly. She wrapped her arms around Black Star's neck, pressing her bulging assets against his chest. "He's got a point – just have _fun_. Let loose..._any_ girl here is sure to satisfy you." She smiled saucily. Soul hardened his eyes in reply to the devilish twinkle in her own.

"...No, thanks." Soul coolly rejected, looking away when he caught a glimpse of a topless girl on stage; already starting to strip off her stockings as her audience urged her on with hoots and money. It wasn't as if he hadn't _seen _them before - but now it felt wrong, doing it so casually. It wasn't the same as before. "Hey, 'Star, get going, would you? The game starts in an hour."

"An _hour_?" He gaped. "No way! That's not even enough time to get started!"

"Then you better start now, you idiot!" Soul snapped, losing his last strand of patience with him. He wanted to leave, he suddenly realized, because he felt something tight and uncomfortable in his gut; heavy like a weight, fouling up his entire mood. "Tsubaki said she'd let us use her TV since we can't use Maka's! She's waiting for us."

Black Star clammed up and mouthed her name, suddenly unsure and lost, but Soul had already waved him off. He left his half-finished drink on the bar table and, with one last glance at him, walked through the narrow aisles of the club. Girls roamed the scene, holding trays with drinks and wearing sultry smiles, with indecent clothes and inhaling the scent of sex and cigarette smoke with a dirty flourish. Men chatted amongst themselves; groping the passing women, wearing lewd grins.

He felt suffocated by it all.

Being in such a place felt like a horrible mistake; like he would be getting punched, slapped, _gutted_, when Maka came back from her trip although he, technically, had no reason to fear retaliation because they didn't have a definite label on their relationship. He was still free, for the moment, still able to have his fun, but it didn't feel like it anymore. He felt committed already.

He guessed that was why it felt all sorts of wrong; that weight in his gut becoming unbearable to carry the longer he stayed within the cabaret. Something edging on panic clouded his thoughts, made his walk brisker than before, when he thought of Maka and all those heavy, _thick_, textbook-like books she carried around with her. The _damage_ she could do if she ever caught wind of this was frightening to think of. So when a girl stopped him, smiling widely and asking if he needed _anything at all_, he turned her down with a glare; intent on reaching the exit by all means necessary.

But, he admitted to himself, that gust of icy air was like breathing for the first time.

Soul leaned against a lamppost outside, running a hand through his hair. The emotion he'd identified as guilt had subsided the instant he stepped foot on concrete. He took a deep breath to settle his pounding heart. This was certainly uncool, fearing a girl because of her uncanny skill at smacking him around like some loser. But a wry smile still crept on his face; still made him think that even though Maka was the one who put him in place when he got too out of hand, _he_ would always be the one to weaken her knees and unleash that urgent desire she sealed away, which always made his blood boil as her eyes would be the brightest during that span.

He had only _just_ composed himself when the door flew open and out stormed Black Star, scowling heavily and complaining loudly about this basketball game being worth it.

"Whoa, what's the matter? I thought you were gonna' fuck her." Soul said, bewildered, but followed his friend to his car at a much slower pace.

"She's a bitch." Black Star simply said. He was careful not to look at Soul as he said this. He stuck his chin up in the air loftily. "And someone as great as me is _way_ above fucking a bitch. I'd rather go without it! So, who against who again? Wanna' place bets like last time?"

Soul did not comment but answered his question, knowing Black Star had only stopped himself from indulging in his lust because of one girl; one timid, soft-spoken, kind, girl who was happily humming a song to herself in the kitchen as she cooked dinner for the two boys who were to arrive soon to watch their basketball game.

* * *

><p><strong>A.N: <strong>On direct orders of a certain reader *coughKnickknack47cough*, I posted this chapter as promised! You guys are lucky: you get a double update! That's practically unheard of on this site XD

Maaaan, I can't stop listening to _Misery _by Maroon 5! It's been on replay for the past... _three hours_ now. If someone does a SoMa on that, I will love them forevaaaa...

_Scarlett._


	7. Chapter 7

**Freefall  
>by. <strong>_Poisoned Scarlet_

* * *

><p><strong>7a<strong>

* * *

><p>"And...it's... <em>done<em>!" Tsubaki beamed, gazing at her flower arrangement proudly. Her fingers ran down a silk petal, admiring the contrast of colors that brightened her living room. The flowers were beautiful, given to her by a soft-spoken and kind man she had met a few weeks ago in the very same club where Maka met Soul. She had been lingering around a flower shop, gazing at the bouquets longingly, and he had seen and been kind enough to buy her one.

Tsubaki would say this year had been the best of all. It had been approximately one week since Maka arrived from Tokyo after visiting her mother for the first time in so many years. She appeared tired when she returned; tired, but grateful to be back. Tsubaki had hung in the background, her coin purse clutched in her hand, smiling warmly when Soul waved Maka over lazily and her friend's expression flashed with surprise.

Tsubaki could still envision her radiant smile; the way her eyes danced with a fire that had long-since been put dormant. She had ran to him, bringing him into a tight hug he returned, before catching her eye and waving her over energetically, also bringing her into a tight embrace.

"_I missed you guys so much! You have no idea!"_

"_We did, too, Maka-chan!" _

"_Yeah, but it felt great to put my feet up on the coffee table without you nagging at me to put them down – OW!"_

"_You better have cleaned that table until it sparkled, Soul, or else!"_

"She's happy." Tsubaki said to herself as that conversation faded back into the rich banks of her memory. Her smile softened, and her finger traced down another flower petal. Then her eyes dulled with conflict. "Maka-chan...has found her sun." She wondered when she would find hers, her fingers running down the stem prickled with thorns.

One caught her skin, tearing it open.

Tsubaki flinched back instantly.

"HEY-HOO!" Black Star's shout echoed through the hall, his knocking raucous and making the frames on her walls shake. "Tsubaki! Guess what? Guess what? Open up so I could tell you of my biggest conquest yet! HAHAHA!"

He always came unannounced.

But she didn't mind the sudden company.

Tsubaki watched Black Star with a mystified sort of look, closing the door as he bounced in cheerfully. With his carefree grin, eyes always alight with humor and glee, Tsubaki wondered how she could have ever forgotten such a refreshing, lively, person.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Black Star frowned, setting his hands on his hips. He looked younger than he was. Tsubaki wondered if this was because he was always so jubilant. "You look a little out of it."

"Oh! Ah, no, it's nothing." Tsubaki flushed, pasting on a nice smile. "I was just thinking about something, that's all. Do not bother yourself with it!"

Black Star's eyes were drawn to her hand and his frown deepened. He strode forward and took it, raising it up to her. With a crooked smile, he said: "How'd you get this, you klutz? Were you messing around with those flowers back there or something?"

Tsubaki's eyes widened. "I-I...yes, I was! How did you know?"

"Pfft, figured." Black Star laughed, good-naturedly. He walked her to her bathroom, going through her cabinets for a bandage. "You look like the type of person to do that! But you gotta' be careful," Black Star ran her finger under the faucet before tearing out a bandage from its packaging. He wrapped it around her wound, grinning out: "I can't have one of my closest followers injured, right?"

_Closest..._

"R...right!"

"Great! Now, c'mon! You gotta' hear this – you'll _never_ believe it!" Black Star cackled, flying out of the bathroom. Her eyes caught herself in the mirror and she stared back at her pink face; her parted lips, words caught in her throat; the bandage on her finger...

_Closest...I'm his closest friend?_

Or was she misunderstanding again?

"Tsubaki!" Black Star hollered, impatiently. "What's the hold up? Tsu-ba-_ki_!"

"I'm coming!" Tsubaki shook herself from her forlorn thoughts, hurrying to attend her guest.

* * *

><p><strong>7b<strong>

They could both hear Black Star yell like a maniac down the hall. Maka had been _relieved_ when he knocked on Tsubaki's door, not theirs, for she didn't think she could take another lazy bastard running around the house.

It was bad enough she had _one _whom she was _positive _dedicated half his life to annoying her...

"Soul! What did I tell you about leaving your boxers in my bathroom?" Maka shouted furiously, holding up a pair of silk black boxers at an arms length. Soul lazily turned his head to her, slumped on her couch with the remote control limp in his hand; the epitome of laziness. He had just returned from work an hour ago, exhausted. He liked being with her and all (it was the reason he just dropped by after work nowadays) but he did _not _want to deal with her and her temper at the moment...

"_Not_ to leave them in your bathroom...?"

"_Yes_." Maka ground out, storming up to him. She shoved it in his face and he looked away, annoyed. "So _why_ are they in my bathroom?"

"'Cause I left them there last night?"

"And _why_ did you leave them there last night?"

"...'Cause I never left, genius?"

Maka scowled and dropped his boxers on his lap. She eyed his jeans, able to asking without stumbling over her words too much: "What...are you wearing underneath?"

"The boxers I left here _last_ time." Soul drawled, grinning lazily at her candid look. "Maka, I basically have a whole three pairs of clothes here. I'm good for the next... six days or so."

"_That's_ why there were more clothes in the hamper than usual!" Maka realized, shooting him one last glare before moving to the kitchen to grab her laundry basket. "Your clothes were in there, too! Stop leaving them behind, Soul, I'm not your maid!" She glanced at the clock. "They should be done by now...I'll be right back! Don't burn the house down while I'm gone!"

"No promises."

"_Soul_..." Maka warned. She only saw his thumbs up from the couch, his body still sprawled across the cushions. She rolled her eyes instead, deciding she'd deal with him later, and headed out to the laundry mat downstairs to pick up their washed clothes.

Soul, on the other hand, took a deep breath of the floral scent that mingled with his cologne. His eyes landed on various things, small things, really, that spoke largely of his influence in her life.

Like the leather jacket thrown over the kitchen chair, which had been there for the past two days. Or the pair of headphones he'd brought over when Maka complained her ear-buds had bit the dust and now she was unable to listen to her crappy music (in his opinion, she was getting better, but she wouldn't let go of drum and bass). And his cellphone, on the coffee table, or his keys on the bedside table in her room. His cellphone charger was still plugged into the wall beside her laptop; the mail he'd picked up at his place but ended up leaving at her place was stacked on the kitchen table.

Perhaps the fact that, over the course of many weeks, he had left an armful of his clothing behind and she had stored it in her drawers neatly with the promise of giving it back to him later. There was a growing pile of his CD's on her vanity, a few headbands he'd left behind in her bathroom since she had taken a tendency to sling-shoot them away when they indulged in each other.

He practically _lived_ with her, Soul realized. He visited daily and, most of the time, ended up spending the night. His own apartment held signs of neglect in the way half of the food in his fridge had spoiled and there was dust on every surface area. His bed had been made for the past, what, four days? He hadn't turned on his television in weeks, preferring to watch his shows on Maka's, and his stereo had been inconspicuously transferred to Maka's living room when he discovered she didn't own one.

Maka refused to let his cool stereo go, though – she said techno sounded _divine_ on it.

Soul nearly had a panic-attack at the thought of his precious sound system being abused in such a way.

"Hey, Soul, get off your lazy butt and help me with this!" Maka barked, pushing the front door open with her foot. Soul heaved himself off the couch, keeping the door open for her while she shuffled inside with a huge laundry basket in her arms. He locked the door and had been on his merry way to the couch when Maka's voice rang again.

"Soul! Come in here and help me fold the clothes!"

"But, _Maka_..." Soul groaned, so not in the mood. He gazed longingly at the couch. "Do I _have_ to?"

"Unless you want me to throw out your clothes, then _yes!_"

Soul took his sweet time, scowling when he saw Maka had been patiently waiting for him. She tossed him a few articles of clothes, not bothering to separate them, and began to fold her pile herself. Soul sighed loudly but got to work, his pace _much _slower than Maka's.

While Maka folded five, he folded one and a half.

Soul smirked, holding up a pair of white panties. "Don't you have any sexy underwear? I always see you wearing these kiddy ones." He snickered when she snatched them back with a flush, shoving them under her stack of clothes.

"_No_, why would I want any of that?" Maka stiffly said, returning to her task. "It's not like anyone else is going to see me in them! I think it's a waste of money!"

"... _I'll_ be seeing – !"

"_You _don't count." Maka flatly told him.

"That's cold, Maka, what if I really wanted see you in a thong and you wouldn't do it because you're too much of a prude – _whoa_, not cool!" Soul dodged a Maka Chop from her, warily eying the novel in her hand. It was softcover but the spine of those things _hurt _even more than the hardcover ones. "Take a joke, Maka!"

"Clothes are clothes and their main function is to cover oneself." Maka simply reasoned, folding a shirt in three moves. He wondered how she did that. "I'm not going to buy lacy underwear just because _someone _thinks they're needed." She shook her head at him. "They'd be taken off in the end, anyway, so what's the point?"

It was silent for a second.

Then her heart lurched at the ghosting touch of his fingertips up her arm.

"The point is..." Soul purred into her ear from behind. His hands grabbed her wrists, halting her: the skirt in her hand fell back into the pile. She felt his chest on her back, almost instinctively slumping against him while he hummed something in the back of his throat in the way he always did. "..._foreplay_, Maka. I don't believe we've ever really explored that, huh?"

Maka felt her stomach both drop and flutter at his suggestion, the way she felt his lips stretch into that wicked grin against her neck.

Her toes curled in anticipation.

"I...I don't think so."

"There's a first time for everything." Soul chuckled when her shoulders tensed. His arms wrapped tightly around her thin frame, already fingering the edge of her shirt. There was one thing she would never understand about Soul: despite not wanting to do _anything _because of exhaustion, he seemed to suddenly fill with energy when anything remotely sexual came up. Even _she _couldn't do that, although Maka suspected those days were the most gratifying for Soul since her body was practically under his entire control. She bit her lip when he whispered against her neck,"After this, you'll see it my way."

She didn't, Maka would tell anyone who dared to ask, not _really_.

Truthfully, she did.

But that didn't mean she'd step foot into a Victoria Secret's store.

That would be proving him right, and seeing his smug grin when he realized her underwear was no longer safe cotton but daring lace would ruin her entire day.


	8. Chapter 8

**Freefall  
>by. <strong>_Poisoned Scarlet_

* * *

><p><strong>8a<strong>

* * *

><p>She used to room with Tsubaki before the girl decided to become independent and rent her own apartment. It wasn't a problem before, either, since her papa paid for her rent as a result of feeling guilty – or as he constantly told her, <em>"because my little girl should be focusing on school, not when the next rent payment is due!"<em>

But now she was royally screwed for depending on him so much.

He had told her this tidbit of information far too late into the month, and she had a feeling he had been withholding it for a while now. But, then again, Maka thought, she hardly answered her father's phone calls because his 'emergencies' usually consisted of not being able to speak to her and his job taking up most of the time he could be using on her. Although Maka firmly knew he meant his lady friends at his favourite cabaret club and _not_ her.

"What do you mean you got _laid off_?" Maka gaped into the receiver. It was strangely quiet today and Maka realized, belatedly, it was because Soul had gone home last night instead of staying as he usually did. He'd told her something about needing to revise a few tracks and going to work early. He made the offhanded comment of bringing his laptop with him next time so he wouldn't leave. Maka did not comment on it: she sort of liked having him around. He kept things fresh even though sometimes all he did was lay around and sleep. "Papa – _why_ did you get laid off? Because your boss hates you – that's _such_ a lie! I bet it was because you always go to work _late_ with a huge hangover!"

At his sheepish tone, Maka knew this to be true and threatened to deck him in the stomach the next time she saw him for being an irresponsible idiot.

Maka looked over to her clock, swearing under her breath.

She had to leave now if she wanted to arrive to her lecture on time.

She wondered where the _hell_ Soul was: he promised to drop her off. He had been doing so for the past few weeks. Just because he left for the night did not change this cycle – at least, Maka hoped so, because she wouldn't be able to make it on time by public transportation anymore.

"Look – can we talk about this later? I'm going to be late for my ten o'clock lecture – !"

The front door opened and Maka glanced to see Soul walk in, ruffling his white hair as though he had just woken up. Judging from the way his jeans hung low on his hips and his eyes drooped lower than usual, she wouldn't be surprised if he had.

"No. I'll – I'll deal with it later, don't worry about it." Maka sighed, shifting on her other foot. "I can get a job. I think you need the money more than I do right now – just focus on getting a job, alright? Don't come over. Bye." She hung up while he was in mid-rant and heaved another sigh.

"What was that all about?"

"Papa just got laid off work." Maka informed, weary. "And now I need a job to pay for the rent if I don't want to be evicted."

His brows rose a bit but his overall expression stayed blank. She wondered how he did that. "Job?"

"My papa paid my rent for me since he wanted me to get through college first. But now that he's been laid off, he can't. He can give me this months rent, but I'll need a job so I can pay next months." Maka explained, already formulating a plan for how she would make a living for the next few months. "I'll have to cut down on a lot of my usual costs...maybe cut the cable? Or house phone, I hardly use that..."

"Or I could just move in with you and pay half to help you out." He pipped.

"You...you would do that?"

"Yeah, sure." Soul shrugged, nonchalant. He pointed to her flat-screen television enthusiastically. "As long as I can use _that _all I want, I'll even pay for the cable bill."

Maka glared instantly, the thought of _that's actually pretty sweet of him _crashing and burning along with her hopes of lazy weekday evenings. "It's nice to know you'd help me out _only _to use my TV, you jerk."

"What? Oh." He chuckled at her surly tone. "You're nice, too – OUCH!"

He never saw that punch coming.

He usually never did.

"Shut up, let's just _go_. I don't want to be late." Maka grumbled, grabbing her own set of keys off the table. Soul rubbed his bruised arm furiously. "Even if you _do_ move in with me, it doesn't take care of my money issue. I'd still have to get a job to pay for my half of the rent."

"But the load'll be easier." Soul offered, closing the door behind him and locking it as Maka walked down the hall, checking through her bag in case she forgot anything. "You wouldn't have to stress as much."

"I guess..." Maka trailed off, her eyes resting on his motorcycle parked on the curb for a moment. "But good luck convincing the land lord to let you keep _that_."

"It's a chick, right?"

"The land lord? Yes, why?"

"No prob, just give me five minutes with her. She'll be cutting down your rent before you know it." Soul grinned when Maka slowly turned to him, disturbed by the mental image of Soul sweet talking her _old_ land lord. Soul swung an arm around her neck, bringing her into a headlock she didn't bother trying to escape from. "I'm _kidding_, Maka – that's just gross and uncool. You really need to learn how to take jokes."

"Ugh, you've been hanging out with Black Star too much!" Maka grumbled, trying once to escape his hold then stopping. "That sounds like something _he'd_ do."

"He tried, once."

"Really?" Maka laughed at the thought. Soul dragged her along toward his motorcycle. "Did it work?"

"Actually...it did."

"Oh, god." Maka grunted when she tried to remove his arm from around her neck. He always did that: bring her into a headlock, watch her squirm and wiggle around with the effort to escape. "That lady must have been... _desperate_!" Maka sighed when Soul tightened his arm around her neck, amused. "Soul, let me go! I don't want to be late – Professor Stein won't let me in his class if I'm tardy!"

"That lady was asking for it." Soul continued, ignoring her request. The shine of a car caught his eye and Soul looked toward the black Jaguar parked down the curb. He caught a wisp of blonde hair, spark of crystal blue eyes, and that was all he needed to pull Maka up so his arm rested around her waist instead. "Too bad she didn't get any."

"I don't even _want_ to know what Black Star did to convince her." Maka shuddered, looking up at him with her wide, jade, eyes. He looked down at her and Maka opened her mouth to ask what he was staring at so intently before he bent down and kissed her.

It was weird, to be so open about this. He had _never_ done something so bold in public: they kept their strange relationship under wraps, private. But she could not deny the flutter in her gut, the rush of heat to her cheeks despite having done this with him so many times before.

"You're adorable..." Soul whispered against her lips, causing her entire body to grow rigid. She was sure her heart skipped a beat. "...like a little _kid_." He stifled laughter.

He didn't see this punch coming, either.

Maka mounted the bike coolly, not offering a hand to help him as he swore up and down and clutched his aching arm. If it was bruised before, he didn't even want to see what it looked like now.

"Hurry up! I'm running late!" Maka snapped, shrewdly. "_Asshole_."

"You didn't have to hit me so damn hard! Jeez, you need to loosen up, Maka!"

"Just drive before I give you a reason not to."

But he didn't mind her violent outburst because when he revved his bike and he looked back to that black Jaguar, he saw the stony threat in Hiro's eyes and he replied with a snarky grin of his own.

_Get lost, loser. _It seemed to tell Hiro. His knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel, watching Soul smirk: _She's mine._

"Not for long, you freak." Hiro hissed to himself, watching their retreating forms in his rear view mirror.

* * *

><p><strong>8b<strong>

As it turned out, her papa completely ignored her when she told him not to come over later that day.

He pounded on her door vigorously for at least two minutes. His shouts of her name could likely be heard all through her neighborhood. What made things worse was she could hear Soul's muffled laughter as she stomped to the door, throwing it open to hiss at her father:

"Papa _shut up_! I heard you the first time!"

"But, _Maka_!" Spirit sobbed. "I let you down! I promised I'd pay your rent so you could go to college and become a – a famous author!"

"Papa, that's my minor. I'm apprenticing under Professor Stein because I want to become an M.D., remember?"

"...but papa let you _down_! Now you'll never become one of those! I'm _so _sorry, Maka, my little angel – !" And he squeezed her in his arms, enough to cut off air-supply.

"P-Papa, you're crushing me!" Maka gasped, stumbling back by the force of his embrace. She growled when she heard Soul's choked laughter coming from her couch. "PAPA GET THE HELL OFF ME!" She shrieked, kicking him back out into the hall. Taking a quick breath to compose herself, Spirit looking up at her with big, watery, eyes, she continued in a much calmer voice: "It's okay. I've taken care of it. I already got a roommate, and I'll just get a part-time job so I can pay for my half of the rent."

"R-roommate?" Spirit sniffed. He seemed to suddenly regain his lost dignity: he stood straight and smiled eagerly: "Who is she? Is it that cute girl with the black hair?"

"_No_!" Maka glared. Spirit pouted. "But _he _is really going to pay the cable bill if he doesn't _shut up_!"

"Wait, _he_?" Spirit wheezed.

'He' popped up a few seconds later and waved patronizingly at her father, whom stared with something close to horror.

"Sup? Names Soul Evans. Nice to meet you, uh...?"

"...No." Spirit stated, without preamble; not bothering to grace him with his name.

Maka blinked. "What?"

"No. He's not moving in with you – I forbid it! Nope!" Spirit flatly decided. Maka's jaw slacked a little with disbelief. "You are _not _moving in with a _guy, _Maka. There's only _one _thing guys like _him _want and I refuse to have my little girl _hurt _because of some shitty octopus head!"

"What do you mean he can't - ?"

"Hey! Who you callin' an octopus head, you bastard?"

"What'd you say to me, you brat?" Spirit hissed, loathing.

"You heard me, you ass." Soul snapped with equal dislike.

"Say that to my face, you little fu—!"

"Quit it you two!" Maka snapped, stepping in front of her papa when he tried to near Soul, who scowled defiantly back at him. "Papa, I'm twenty one, I can room with whoever I want. And Soul – he isn't like that. We're, uh..." Maka faltered, searching for a word. Nothing came to mind. "We're just, ah..."

"We're just partners in crime." Soul easily answered, remote control in his hand as he rested his chin in the crook of his elbow. Maka breathed easy for the moment. "What're you so worried about, old man? You should be grateful I even agreed to this."

"What? _You_ were the one who - !" Maka's angry retort was cut off by her furious father.

"You know _exactly _what I'm worried about, you little fuck!" Spirit snarled. Soul was unimpressed. "Like hell am I going to let you – let you _have your way _with my beautiful little Maka! You'll just end up dumping her after you get what you want but I _won't let that happen_!"

"You just described yourself every Sunday morning." Soul sniggered and Spirit sputtered, red-faced with anger.

"You son of a - !"

"Papa, he's _not like that_! Stop bullying him!" Maka grabbed her father by the lapels of his jacket and tossed him out into the hall again, hand on the door knob. She leaned down, whispered so Soul would not hear: "I've known him for a few months now and he's treated me... he's treated me far better in these past few months than you have in over ten years."

He froze.

"I'll be fine." Her smile did not reach her eyes; in fact, those brilliant jade eyes of hers were tired and dull. His chest ached at the sight. She had the same look in her eye that Kami had when she proposed a divorce. "I'm not a child anymore, papa... I can take care of myself. I don't need you to always look after me." She paused. "If I ever _do_ get in trouble, Soul... he can help me. He _will_ help me." She firmly said. "I know he will."

"Maka..." He breathed.

"Bye, papa."

And she shut the door.

And she wasn't surprised, as she walked into the kitchen for a cup of water, ignoring Soul's suspicious gaze, when she heard nothing but her father's quiet, dragging, footfalls as he left.


	9. Chapter 9

**Freefall  
>by. <strong>_Poisoned Scarlet_

* * *

><p><strong>9a<strong>

* * *

><p>Soul wondered if all those crimes he had committed in his adolescence were finally catching up to him, as he stared at the voluptuous woman standing in his living room in a pair of booty shorts and a tight tank top; in black dollies with her hair tied into a side-pony tail.<p>

Because he was _sure _that Blair would never, ever, meet Maka again after their last less-than-noteworthy encounter.

And he was also _very_ sure he had never breathed a word about Maka's address...

He _hated_ how Nygus kept tabs on him, even after so many years.

"Oh! She's so adorable!" Blair squealed, holding the small cat, who ironically also went by the same name as her, in her arms. She snuggled against it, giggling when the cat mewed and purred. "I bet I'd look _just_ like this if I was born a kitty! Don't you think so, Soul?"

"Blair, what the _hell _are you doing here?" Soul demanded, watching his friend prance around the apartment with the cat held in her arms. Maka stood by the kitchen archway with a spoon in her hand, smiling at Blair's excitement over her household pet.

"She just arrived, actually." Maka informed him. "She said she wanted to talk to you about something."

"Well, then, _talk_. Then get the hell out."

"Soul!" Maka chided but he ignored her.

"I just wanted to see what my little Soul was up to, that's all! No need to be mean!" Blair pouted, the cat pressed close to her chest. At his dark look, she cut to the chase: "Word on the street is you moved in with your honey. Blair just wanted to see if it was true!"

"Don't do that, it bugs me." Soul ground out, stalling. He stole a look at Maka and found her looking at Blair; pointedly ignoring him. His gut knotted up at the thought of how he was going to circumvent this problem without causing too much damage to their shaky relationship.

They hadn't spoken of what, _exactly_, they were.

He put it off and, unbeknownst to him, Maka had done the same.

"Do what?" She asked, innocently. "Blair didn't do anything."

"_That_! Quit doing that!"

"I think he means referring to yourself in the third person." Maka pipped, earning a look of reproach from Soul and a giggle from Blair.

"Blair knows." Blair laughed when Soul breathed in to compose himself. "So it _is_ true? You moved in with your _girl_friend—!" She began to sing before she was rudely interrupted.

"She—she's not my girlfriend!" Soul blurted, thoughtlessly. Maka had turned around before he said it, having known what was coming from a mile away. The room had become strained; silent. "She needed a roommate to help pay for the rent and I decided to help her out. That's all..." He mumbled, averting his eyes from hers.

Blair stared at him intently from over the ears of the purring cat, the only sound in the room.

Soul saw suspicion mixed with sympathy.

It made his fists clench.

"Oh. Okay. I just wanted to see if it was true or not. I guess not, since you're just _friends_." The word was soaked with sarcasm. Soul narrowed his eyes dangerously. "Anyway, Blair will help Maka in the kitchen! She promised she would!" And she bounced to where the girl was without a second glance at him, a startled yelp telling Soul that Blair had caught her unawares.

And Soul stood in the middle of the living room, digesting what had just happened.

He ran his hand through his hair.

_Shit._

What had he just done? Hadn't _he _been the one who asked her to give him a chance because living with the regret of what _could _have been would be worse than never having given it a chance at all?

Because he _did _catch her hurt eyes before she turned away.

He _did _notice how she shut herself up, frosted her expression, directly after.

And what unnerved him the most was it had been as if she had been _expecting _him to say those very words.

Soul fell back on the couch, his arm slung over his eyes. He could feel a headache begin to prick behind his eyes and he sunk deeper into his seat at the sound of pots and pans clanking; a sure sign that Maka was just a few feet away, likely reeling from what he had just said, and Blair's overly chipper attitude was not helping.

"_Fuck_."

He _really_ needed to expand his vocabulary because that word barely encompassed the magnitude of his screw up.

* * *

><p><strong>9b<strong>

In his opinion, Blair had purposely taken her sweet time leaving. He couldn't count how many times he had simply wanted to grab her by the arm, toss her out, and slam the door in her face. But he had restrained himself, opting to surf through the channels on TV as if nothing was amiss. He answered curtly when Blair came back to initiate idle talk; he pretended he _didn't_ notice that Maka never once came out of the kitchen; and he wisely circumvented questions and hints that Blair would sprinkle in her conversations in an effort to squeeze the truth out of him.

Dinner was terrible.

Blair sat between them, somewhat diminishing the tension, but when he finished nothing changed. Maka didn't look at him and Blair still held that disappointed, annoyed, glimmer in her golden eyes.

And he went back to browsing for something good on the television even though he was attentive to Maka and Blair's hushed conversation.

But the instant Blair left – after leaning down, shoving cleavage in his face, giving him a kiss on the cheek which he tried to avoid at all costs but failed – he turned off the television and dared to venture into the kitchen, where he could still hear Maka soap up the dirty dishes.

"Maka?"

She stiffened but continued in her task. "What?"

He cringed. Clipped tone. He recognized that tone as one his brother would use whenever he skipped his piano lessons. "Uh, about what I said earlier..."

"Oh, that. It's fine, Soul." Maka flatly interrupted. Soul's stomach plummeted to his ankles. "I get it. Don't worry."

"But that's... that's not it. I didn't mean it that way."

"No, it's fine." Maka dismissed passively, turning away quickly to dry her hands on the apron that hung off a hook near the stove. He knew that defense maneuver. He had done it once or twice himself but he was not going to let her get away from him so easily. "We're friends and we're always going to be friends, right? Close friends. That's all."

"You're not getting it." Soul insisted, grabbing her wrist. He pulled her back but she fought for her wrist; refusing to turn and face him. "That's not it! I don't want..._that_. I wasn't thinking when I said that! I just want..."

"What _do_ you want?" Maka snapped, ripping her wrist from his grasp. "What do you want, Soul, because, honestly, _I _don't even know what the hell you want! You're always here, you always – always _act _like I mean something to you but at the end of the day, I don't think so. What do you _want_, Soul?"

"I don't know!" Soul finally snapped. "I don't even _know_ what we are! I've been trying to figure that out for weeks now! I don't _know _if I should treat you like my girlfriend or just a friend! You never made it clear!"

"Because you never asked!"

"How can I ask when I don't even know what the hell we _are_?"

"That's why you _ask, _dumbass!"

"I didn't want to ruin everything by making things awkward, you idiot!" Soul spat. "You're not easy to read, Maka, not when it comes to this. I wasn't sure. I couldn't _be_ sure because you _always_ shut yourself up right afterward!" When he caught her steadily watering eyes, Soul hastily added: "I wanted to treat you like... like..."

No one spoke.

"Like what?" She asked, thickly.

"Like..."

"Lately, you've been treating me like I'm some sort of toy, but I guess that was my own fault for letting this get so out of hand." Maka stated, bitterly. "I should've known better than to think this could stay the way it is. I let my feelings get in the way." The indirect confession stunned Soul silent. Instead of dwelling on her heavy words, she shook her head and asked: "How _do_ you want to treat me like, Soul?"

The rest hung heavily between them.

This was it.

And Soul was shitting it because suddenly his mind had gone blank and all he knew was that this was something _important_, something life altering, and he couldn't even form one coherent sentence. He didn't know how much time had passed before he finally, _finally,_ managed to string together a reply. And he knew damn well his answer was fucking _pathetic._

"...Not this." Soul gave a defeated sigh and tentatively reached out for her, wrapping his arm around her neck when she didn't pull away. But this time, instead of dragging her into a playful headlock, he rested his cheek against her head and pressed her tightly against him in a rare show of honest affection. "I don't want...to be friends."

He had never confessed before. It had always been the other way around; always the girls who mustered up enough courage to ask him out, to confess their temporary love for him. He selected the few who struck his fancy, the ones who he wouldn't mind being with for a little while before he moved on to the next one. But now it was different: now _he _was the one with his head bowed and now _she _was the one looking down on him.

And even though he _knew _that, to some extent, she shared some of the same feelings he did, it _still _scared the shit out of him; _still _made his palms clammy; _still _drained the color in his face; _still _invoked that sickening feeling of dread in the base of his stomach. He wondered how those girls did it, how they could so bravely confess something so big to him with the thunderous loom of rejection hovering over them.

He held some new respect for them now because it wasn't easy.

"I know we said we'd stay like this." Soul continued when she did not say anything. "But I meant what I said that night. You're _not_ a toy – you've _never_ been a toy! I... damn it..." He groaned, feeling his face flush. This wasn't cool at all. He had to get the words out properly yet his mouth wouldn't form around them like he wanted to. "I want you!" He blurted, then groaned again. "No, that came out wrong.. I meant... I - like you a lot. No, uh...damn it, this _not_ cool..."

"Soul..."

He felt her shake beneath him. With laughter, he realized with a deepening flush, she was _laughing _at him!

He was beyond uncool: he was fucking _pathetic, _and that both pissed him off and made him feel lower than he had ever felt in all his years. And he had gone through _enough_ shitty situations without ever feeling this depressed and embarrassed.

"It's okay, Soul." His humiliation was derailed when she wrapped her arms around him tightly. He could feel her lips against the flushed skin of his neck. "You don't have to keep going. I understand now. I – want something more, too..." she admitted, hushed.

He breathed out in relief, composing himself with a surly mutter of: "This confessing stuff is harder than it looks."

"You suck at it, too." Maka giggled, laughing when she caught a glimpse of his scowl. "I bet even Black Star could do a better job than you!"

"Whoa, hey, let's not get carried away here." He cracked a smile when she laughed harder, clutching the back of his shirt. His arms dropped to her waist. "We'll see just who sucked the most when _he _gets around to doing it."

"Do you think he ever will?" Maka wondered, as Soul pushed her back a few steps towards the wall. He leaned against it, keeping her in his arms, as he composed his reply:

"Yeah, he's into her." Maka didn't need him to elaborate; she knew exactly who. "And she's probably the only one with enough patience to put up with him." He snorted at the idea. "They're a match made in heaven."

"Don't say that to him." Maka warned, looking up at him with those big green eyes of hers. He wouldn't deny it: she could be heart wrenchingly adorable when she wanted. Although, he suspected she was mainly unaware of her effect on people when she looked at them the way she did to him now. "He's already an egomaniac, no need to make it worse."

Soul glanced out the window to mask his impulsive urge to do something _very _uncool - like kiss her forehead or something equally sappy.

"Got it."

Maka beamed.

That night, they fell asleep watching television on the couch: Soul stretched across the cushions with an arm hanging off the edge and drool running down his chin while Maka dozed on top of him, lulled to sleep by his steadily beating heart.


	10. Chapter 10

**Freefall  
>by. <strong>_Poisoned Scarlet_

* * *

><p><strong>10a<strong>

* * *

><p>She had the crumpled letter in her fist, settling into a booth with the thick smell of cigarette smoke and sweat surrounding her. It was not pleasant but she dealt with it without comment. As her eyes uneasily took in the scene – the gruff men, talking loudly over a few beers, the bartenders with their sharp eyes and grimaces - Maka tried to remember what motivated her to listen to what the letter said in the first place<p>

Hiro wrote it.

She found it in the mail that morning and hid it from Soul at the last minute – luckily, too, since it would have complicated a lot of things.

What Hiro had written was consistent with various things Soul had told her over the course of many weeks, only Hiro's letter carried them on with more depth. While Soul casually commented these things, Hiro dug deep. It annoyed her that he had been rummaging around Soul's past, trying to dredge it up in hopes of finding something nasty, and it beyond angered her that he was struggling to squash their budding romance and didn't even have the decency to hide it under other intentions.

He had certainly never been so pushy before.

Maka wondered if it was because she had never bothered to move on until now.

"You _sonofabitch_—!" She heard someone snarl viciously before a glass shattered on the floor.

Maka screamed, crawling back in her seat when two men fell on top of the table, exchanging heavy blows blindly. Her wide eyes saw their meaty fists collide with each others mouths, cheeks, and she stared with a horrified fascination at the blood that spattered with each blow. The one pinning the other onto the table was winning: she saw the loser begin to lose consciousness, choke and struggle to escape his grasp to no avail.

"St...stop it!" Maka whispered, tremulously. Then she lunged forward and grabbed the mans hand, bringing it to a startling halt. "_Stop it_! Can't you see you're hurting him? Stop it, he's had enough!"

"What the fuck?" The guy frowned, confused. "Who the fuck are you?"

"Stop it!" Maka shouted again, pushing him away. She could see various heads turn to watch the scene unfold, casually drinking their choice of poison without much concern that the man she just stopped looked about ready to pummel her as well. "I don't know what he said to you but you'll kill him if you keep this up!"

"So what?" He sneered. Maka felt her chest grow tight with fear at his indifference. "That'd teach this dumbass to fucking mess with me."

"A...aren't you afraid of getting arrested for _murder_?" Maka asked, staring into twin black eyes. They showed no sympathy or mercy.

"Wouldn't be the first time," he smirked.

Maka felt cold wash through her.

"Hey! Back off, Zack, c'mon, she's new here. Don't start something or I'll call Sid over!" A woman dressed heavily in bandages snapped, grabbing his shoulder and shoving him away from her. Maka nearly jumped back from the murderous look in his eyes – wasn't this woman afraid of what could happen to her? The man – Zack – looked about ready to finish her off, too. "Get the hell out of my bar! If you're just going to cause problems, then don't even bother staying! _I_ have to clean up after your messes, y'know!"

"Yeah, whatevers, Nygus. Just tell that fucker to watch himself. He got lucky this time." Zack sent Maka a resentful look before storming away.

"Hey, are you alright?" The woman asked, in a far gentler tone. Maka managed a mute nod. "That was pretty brave of you but don't do it again, okay? It's better to just let them fight it out. You know men and their pride." The woman shook her head as if exasperated. "By the way, the names Mira Nygus. But you can call me Nygus. Yours?"

"Maka Albarn. It's nice to meet you, Nygus." Maka could have sworn Nygus recognized her although she doubted herself: she'd never seen this woman in her life, after all. However, Nygus didn't let anything else slip again and it was difficult to read her face with so many bandages covering it. "Thanks for helping me out back there – I would've probably gotten in big trouble if you hadn't interfered."

"Yeah, Zack's got a temper on him." Her eyes crinkled with a smile. "Listen...Maka, was it? How about you keep me company over by the bar. What are you doing here all lonesome, anyhow? Waiting for someone?"

"Oh, yes, but he's not here yet." Her lips pressed together in a frown when she remembered. "But when he comes, I'll settle everything once and for all."

Nygus tensed with unease. "Oh, problems with the boyfriend?"

"Ah – _no_!" Maka shook her head, flushing pink. Her shoulders relaxed and Maka felt her suspicion rise. "An ex, actually. He sent me a letter trying to, ah, make me change my mind about who I'm seeing right now." Maka rose the crumpled letter in her hand with a thin smile.

"Nosy, ain't he?" Nygus scowled furiously but the look lightened at Maka's narrowed eyes. She couldn't blow her cover yet. "That's a low blow. What, does he want you back now or something? I hate men like that. Don't know what they got til they lost it. It's pathetic, if you ask me!"

Maka followed a huffy Nygus to the bar table, where she settled into a stool and Nygus rummaged around behind the counter for a glass and a bottle of hard liquor.

"Here, have a drink!"

"Oh, no, I don't drink - !" Maka began before resigning when Nygus insisted it was on the house. She took a few sips, deciding she'd only have one glass today. There was no use getting tipsy when there was still some things to do – specifically with Hiro, who was now running late.

"So, this _guy_ you're going out with..." Nygus started, casually. Maka watched her wipe a glass clean with a towel. "He any good?"

"He's...a really nice guy although he denies it." Maka smiled, warmly. "A little rough around the edges, and he can _so _lazy sometimes, but... I'm really starting to like him." She admitted with a embarrassed laugh.

"Aw, that sounds sweet." Nygus crooned. Maka's face darkened a deeper shade of pink. "Well, if you think you have something special with this guy." She leaned forward, sternly: "Go for it. Don't let _anyone_ talk you out of it, you hear me? Not even this ex of yours. Don't throw something away just because others say he's no good for you! It's what _you _want, not what _others _want."

Maka nodded, feeling small under her stare. Nygus held an air of authority; it made Maka think of her as being a good military instructor. She certainly had the no-nonsense attitude for it. "Yeah, I-I know. That's why I'm here – to tell Hiro to leave me alone! I don't want to deal with him any more!" She gained confidence, growling: "He's a liar and a cheater and now he's trying to ruin my relationship with Soul!"

Nygus, on the verge of encouraging her, stopped herself when the double doors of her bar pushed open. She immediately frowned at the person who walked in. He looked like such a scene boy – with his straightened blonde hair falling over his eyes, the leather studded vest, his thick black army boots and tight skinny jeans. But she could see why someone would give him the time of day: he was handsome, with twinkling blue eyes and lips that seemed to always be pulled in a smirk.

"Maka! Hey! Sorry I'm late!" Hiro smiled charmingly and Nygus scowled outright.

"Hi, Hiro." Maka greeted, stiffly. He sat next to her, that goofy grin still on his face. Maka looked at her drink, which was only half full. She finished the rest. "Look, Soul is expecting me back soon. So can we get this over with?"

Hiro's smile faltered and Nygus smirked.

"Fine, if that's what you want. I invited you here because, Maka... you _have _to break up with Soul." Hiro firmly stated. Nygus' smirk was wiped from her face and she crossed her arms in disbelief. "Look, I know you might be falling for him, but you can't! He's a delinquent! You read what I wrote – I swear to you _everything_ I've told you is true! He's a _wanted criminal! _He probably has a few skeletons in his closet, too, for all we know!"

"I _know_ – he _told _me, Hiro!" Maka snapped, partly lying. He _had_ told her he was in a gang before but he hadn't gone in depth. Maka just assumed it had been a phase. Perhaps not, but she'd deal with that face-to-face with him when the time came, not because of Hiro's nosiness. "Hiro, just stay out of my life. We're not dating anymore, and whoever I decide to date now is none of your business."

"But, _Maka_!" Nygus couldn't help but notice he sounded like a child who hadn't gotten what he wanted. "How – how could you even _like _someone like him? I mean just look at him! Those sharp _teeth _and red _eyes. _He looks like a... a _demon_ or something!"

Nygus needn't interfere, Maka handled it for her.

"_Take it back!" _Maka snarled, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt. Nygus snapped her jaw shut and swallowed her retort, watching with wide eyes as Maka hissed: "I never said anything about all the _sluts _you've gone out with behind my back! So don't you dare insult Soul – I'm getting really sick of hearing about you, Hiro, and I won't hold back if you keep interfering with my life!"

Her eyes were burning pools of emerald, catching the light in such a way that left him breathless. Despite the threat that glinted in her eyes, Hiro couldn't contain himself. There was that passionate spark that had drawn him to her; the girl he had decided to give a try and had genuine good times with. And he was sure she felt it, too, because her eyes flickered with uncertainty.

But before he could grab her wrist, bring her tightly into his arms and sway her feelings for Soul, he felt another hand clutch his shoulder and tear him away from her. He stumbled out of his seat, looking up at the bartender who glared at him with such disgust it insulted him.

"Get outta' my bar. You're causing a scene, kid."

"But she – !" He protested, looking at Maka.

"She stays." Nygus interrupted. She pointed to the door. "Out."

"What the – I didn't even _do_ anything! Maka, do you know her?" Hiro asked her, frowning when he saw she only turned her head away and crossed her arms stubbornly. "Maka? Oh, _c'mon_, don't tell me you're mad at me! I was just looking after you! We might not be dating but I still _care _about you! I'm doing this because I _care _about you and I don't want you to get hurt any more – !"

"If you didn't want me to get hurt you shouldn't have seen all those girls behind my back." Maka icily told him. The tone was enough to make him flinch away, guilty.

"Maka..." He pleaded. "I _never_ cheated on you! All those times - we were on _break_! I would never cheat on you, Maka, you gotta' believe me!"

Maka froze, tears burning her eyes.

"Oh, please, save it for someone who cares." Nygus snorted, stepping forward to force him out of her facility. "Get the hell out before I let security deal with you!" She shooed him to the door, ignoring his sputtering. She slammed the door behind her once he was well out into the sidewalk and returned to Maka, finding her slumped over the table miserably.

"Are you okay, Maka?" Nygus sympathetically asked, resting a hand on her back. Maka buried her face in her arms.

"He always does this. How could he say that? All those times were weren't on _break!_" Maka sniffled, enraged she couldn't understand how he could say those things with such a sincere look in his eyes. "How could he say he still _cares _about me when all he ever did was _cheat _on me? Did he expect me to come back to him again _this _time, too?" Maka bitterly scoffed. "I really like Soul... _I really, really like him_... why can't he just leave me alone?"

"He's just jealous, Maka, he finally realized he lost something real." Nygus soothed, smiling softly when she looked up with watery eyes. She saw her sniff and blink them back bravely. "But now you've found someone who's going to really appreciate you – even if he's a lazy bastard sometimes. He's the real thing, trust me." She smiled when Maka's lips twitched upward, her face brightening ever so slightly. "Just follow your gut. You can never go wrong if you do."

Maka silently agreed, standing up. Nygus watched her rub her eyes out; take a deep breath to control herself. "You're right." And Nygus _was_ right: she _did_ feel something intense for Soul. It wasn't something she could easily describe but it was there. She could feel it resonate within her everytime he shot her that crooked grin. "Thank you for everything, Nygus, but I really have to go back. I did promise Soul I'd be back before six."

"I understand. You shouldn't keep him waiting." Nygus glanced at the clock. She still had an hour left. But she supposed she needed some alone time to sort out her feelings. "It was nice meeting you, Maka."

"You, too." She pasted on a smile, rubbing away the last of her tears.

Nygus watched concernedly as Maka left the bar scene and all its distractions through their back exit. After a moment or two, she rounded the bar table and reached for her purse; hidden in a cubbie toward the bottom. She scrolled through her contacts on her phone, dialing Soul's number and waiting impatiently for him to pick up.

He did on the fourth ring.

"Hey, Soul." Nygus started, taking a quick glance at the clock. "Just wanted to let you know Maka dropped by. Yea – just listen, would you? I'm getting there! She had a pretty bad encounter with some Hiro guy – she left just now. I'm not sure if she has a car...no? Then you can probably catch her if you leave now."

Nygus snapped her cellphone shut a few minutes later, thoughtful.

He sounded panicked, which made her lips quirk in a smile...and Maka sounded sincere when she said she liked him...

They would pull through.

Nygus was sure of it.

* * *

><p><strong>10b<strong>

Maka walked down the street quietly, the streetlights beginning to ignite with the falling sun. The air had grown chilly and Maka knew she wouldn't be able to return home at six as she had promised. She could only hope Soul was too distracted with his television programs to notice the time.

She leaned against a streetlamp after a while, taking a deep breath. She uncurled her hand and smoothed out the crumpled letter on her thigh, nostalgically taking in his neat script. Soul's handwriting was terrible; like he was in a rush all the time. But she didn't mind because she still understood it.

_I know this may be a lot to take in right now, _she read to herself, bleakly. He meant all of the crimes Soul had committed in his youth, which Hiro had somehow discovered through his old friends, and wrote down with vicious detail in an attempt to sway her faith. _But it's the truth. He's bad, Maka, he'll only hurt you in the end. _And then her eyes darted down to his parting. _Love you always, Hiro. _

"Right." Maka snorted derisively. She began to tear the letter apart, with the full intention of letting the pieces drift away with the wind along with her lingering attachment to him, when the loud roar of a motorcycle scared her. She jumped, dropping a few strips of paper in her startle.

"Soul..." Maka whispered, surprised. He parked right beside her, turning off the engine but not getting off. Instead, he turned to her and asked, nonchalant:

"Rough day?"

Maka dropped her eyes back to the bits of paper in her hand. She squeezed them once then let them drop, littering the floor. She watched a few pieces be blown away with the evening breeze for a moment before looking up to find him looking back, that crease in his brow giving away his concern.

"Soul..." She faltered, unsure how to phrase her question. He turned fully to her, waiting patiently. "...when you were in that gang, did you ever do anything illegal?"

He gave her a leveled look but answered truthfully. "Yes."

"How bad?"

"Pretty bad." Soul continued, slowly. "Is that what Hiro wanted to talk to you about?"

Her eyes widened. "Wha – how do you know about that? How did you even know where to find me?" It all clicked, suddenly. Her gut feeling had been right after all. "Nygus...you know _Nygus_!"

Soul smiled lopsidedly at her surprise. "You can say that. She's still apart of the gang, you know. She's going out with one of the leaders, so I've heard. She called me right after you left. She was worried – apparently you two almost got in a fight or something?."

Maka deflated, slumping against the streetlamp. "Not a fist fight – he just pissed me off. I could have handled him myself. He's not that tough."

Finally, Soul dismounted. He straightened his jacket, stepping onto the sidewalk to stand beside her. He did not bring her into his arms, though, opting for leaning against the other side of the streetlamp as the sky gradually grew darker.

"...How do you still know Nygus?"

"I'm not in that gang anymore, if that's what you're thinking." Soul immediately said, catching her apprehension. "She's a cool friend, that's all. I started talking to her again when you left to visit your mom. She was the one who technically saved my life when I was younger." He gazed at the sky wistfully. He felt her eyes on him. "If she hadn't thought of staunching the wound on my chest with a sweater, I would have bled to death. It was a pretty deep wound." He absently rubbed his chest, remembering her controlled instructions.

"_Stay with me, Soul. Don't fall asleep – stay with me. Hey, wake up!"_

He stiffened when he felt a smaller, warmer, hand cover the top of his over his chest.

Her arms wove around him from the side soon after, cheek pressed against his shoulder. He dared to look at her but all he saw was ashy blond, tied into a neat pigtail on her head. He couldn't see her face but he imagined dull emerald, lips turned down in a melancholic frown.

"...I don't care, you know." Maka quietly admitted. Her nose buried into his arm, able to smell his cologne with every gust of air. "What you did when you were younger. That's in the past. We've all done stupid things in the past." She smiled, bitter, remembering the times she strangled her logic and went back to Hiro.

He pulled his arm out from between them and wrapped it around her shoulders, bringing her into his chest instead. He could feel her fingers press against the raised flesh of his scar, as if offering comfort although he no longer felt pain from it. She asked if it still bothered him, if it still hurt sometimes, but he shook his head and told her it hadn't hurt again since they had removed the stitches years ago.

It was just a permanent mark of his youthful mistakes now.

Maka tightened her arms around him, as if hearing those dismal thoughts.

"Wanna' get some take out?" Soul asked, after a long while of watching the sun completely set and hearing her soft breathing. The cold wind didn't bother him anymore: she was warmer than any jacket he could ever own.

"Okay." She smiled. "But you're paying this time!"

"Didn't I pay last time?"

"Nope." Maka innocently said, but her giggles gave her away.

"You're lucky I brought my wallet..." Soul mumbled, rolling his eyes when she laughed and trotted over to his bike with a new bounce in her step. She looked back towards him, with those wide emerald eyes and that ever-curious expression, and instead of passively replying as he usually did, Soul did something that Maka would find herself thinking about for the next few days.

He smiled warmly.


	11. Chapter 11

**Freefall  
>by. <strong>_Poisoned Scarlet_

* * *

><p><strong>11a<strong>

* * *

><p>It came with a knock to the door.<p>

Maka prodded Soul with her foot, not removing her eyes from her book, and after much prodding and a threat to crack his skull open, Soul heaved himself off the couch and answered the door.

That resulted in a shout of alarm; the sound of bodies tumbling to the floor strung along with the familiar sounds of a fight.

"What the—!" Maka noticed their uniform first: a severe blue with polished black boots to match and the glint of a police badge on their right breast. She knew something horrible had just happened when they tackled him to the ground. "Soul, what's going on? Hey! What are you doing with Soul—?"

"Ma'am, back away, please. We've been looking for this felon for the past few years now—and I'll add 'resisting an officer' to the list if he doesn't_ calm down this instant_." He was blonde and pale; with calm, blue, eyes that deceived and a fake smile to match. He pushed her back when she reached out for Soul, her eyes springing with tears as thoughts of never seeing him again crowded her mind.

"Soul—!"

"Ma'am, please stay back—!"

"Maka, stay back! Don't get involved!" Soul ordered, wincing when the second officer kneed his side and harshly ordered him to lay still. "_Maka_!"

"Ma'am." The first officer, the one with lying eyes, firmly repeated.

"He's a wanted felon? What are you talking about? He – he's always been with _me_! You have the wrong guy!" Maka insisted, biting her lip when Soul was picked off the floor and shoved against the wall. The second officer and Soul exchanged withering looks; biting words, but she couldn't hear them over the pound of her heart. "There's no way he..."

"We received a tip of who robbed all those jewelry stores all those years ago from an anonymous source. We put the pieces together from there." Law informed crisply, smiling at her shock. His hand gripped the cross that hung off his neck fondly. "He may be clean now, but he wasn't when he was younger. I've got a big file on this boy. You wouldn't believe what he has done in a span of three years."

"He..." Maka was at a loss for words, staring at Soul. "He..."

_He_ did not look at her.

Maka clenched her fists. "...You have no evidence aside from that tip that Soul was the one who did it! You have no right to barge into our home like this and arrest him!"

"He's innocent until proven guilty, yes." Law agreed, and Maka pressed her lips together to restrain herself from snarling out something uncalled for. This was a delicate situation that needed to be handled professionally, she rationalized. "He'll be taken to the station downtown for interrogation and, depending on what we get, he may spend a few days in jail. Court will decide his fate, however."

Maka sucked in a breath, stomach dropping at the thought of Soul never seeing daylight again.

"Bring him down!" Law ordered. His partner nodded eagerly. "It was a pleasure to meet you, miss." He directed to Maka, with a nod of his head. But she hardly reacted, watching him leave without another word to either of them.

"C'mon, _Soul Eater_." The second officer sneered, with a cruel grin. "You'll love prison - everyone is so _nice _there."

"Call Nygus!" Soul shouted at Maka before Law's partner could drag him down to the vehicle. He was cuffed, roughly yanked up by the collar of his shirt but his eyes never left hers. "_NOW MAKA!_"

"Pipe down, Eater!"

"Shut the fuck up, Gopher, and let me outta' these things!" Soul snarled.

Gopher grinned. "Not happening."

"Maka!" Soul snapped her out of her daze.

Maka rushed to her room when Gopher shoved Soul out, leading him downstairs. Her shaky hands fumbled for his cellphone, running down his long list of contacts until she found her number. She called, taking deep breaths, her heart lurching out of her chest, and when Nygus answered she burst into a torrent of choked words and panicked whimpers.

"_I need you to calm down, Maka. Calm down, it'll be okay. What is the officers name?"_

Maka breathed in controlled breaths. "What?"

"_Don't blank on me, Maka, not now! What is the officers name?"_

"His badge says Law."

"_Are they still there?"_

"Yeah, they're – they're loading him up in the car! Nygus, please, is there—?" Maka cut herself off, grinding her teeth in an effort to control the panic that was rapidly taking over her.

"_I'll handle it. Don't let them leave – hurry, pass the phone to Law! Tell him it's me, Nygus! Go!" _

And she did, running down the stairs and bursting out into the sidewalk. Soul was pressed over the hood of the car, legs spread, being patted down by the scrawny-looking officer whose name she believed was Gopher. Law rose a brow at her and curiously looked at the cell phone when she approached him and handed it to him.

"Hello?" Justin Law answered, curiously. His brows rose the slightest bit, his eyes darting back to Maka's distraught ones. He turned and walked down the sidewalk, preferring some privacy as he sorted this mess out. Maka watched Soul tilt his head to look at Law, a frown on his lips but looking no more perturbed than before.

How could he be so _calm_? Maka thought, wringing her hands. How could he act so indifferently when he could be facing life in prison for the crimes he committed in his youth? For things that someone – someone Maka was _sure_ she knew – had tattled on him for? She could taste resentment on her tongue at the thought of that blond-haired, hardheaded and unrelenting, idiot.

"Alright!" Justin cheerfully called attention, handing the cellphone back to Maka. "Let 'em go, Gopher, he's as innocent as this young lady here says he is!"

Maka stared, bewildered, as Gopher pouted but released Soul from the metal cuffs.

He snatched his hands back, sending Gopher a nasty look. "Any tighter, dumbass?"

"Don't try me, Eater." Gopher sneered, sticking his nose in the air loftily. "You're just lucky your girlfriend had enough sense in her to call up Nygus before we took you away. I would've _loved_ to see your ass rot in a cell."

"Fuck you, at least my girlfriend went to college." Soul ignored his affronted gape, moving away from him to stand beside Maka. He grasped her hand in his reassuringly.

Justin Law's lips quirked into a smile at the warming sight, coughing when he caught Soul's threatening look.

"Well," Justin cleared his throat, diffusing some of the tension. "You lucked out today, Soul. It is my mission to take the guilty to face righteous punishment, as you know—!"

"Don't start, Justin." Soul groaned. Maka let his hand go and took a step back, still digesting what had just happened. "Seriously, I nearly got thrown in jail, I'm _not_ in the mood for your preaching."

Justin huffed but conceded. "Very well. I hope to never see you again – actually, we _won't_ be seeing you again. You see, Nygus is quite frightening when I mess with her pups. She has the most colorful imagination, wouldn't you agree?"

"Yeah." Soul muttered. "She's a piece of work, alright."

"Mr. Law! May we be on our way? We just got a call from the station! There is a robbery taking place near Crow Avenue!" Gopher shouted, tone a tad too cheerful.

"_Kiss ass,_" Soul mumbled under his breath, smirking when Gopher shot him a nasty look; as if having heard his comment.

"Ah! Yes! There is crime to fight! Justice to serve! I must be on my way now, children!" Justin bellowed, finger pointed at the sky dramatically. "So long, Soul Eater Evans, and goodbye to you, ma'am!" Justin politely smiled at Maka, who managed a smile of her own. "Pardon my rude mannerism earlier – it's my job, you know."

"Yes, I understand. It was nice meeting you, Officer Law." Maka smiled wearily, waving as Justin sprinted back to his car and drove forward without any regard to his partner, who nearly tumbled out of the passenger side door in his attempt to shut it.

Soul heaved a sigh, turning to his girlfriend. "Maka—!"

"We need to talk." Maka hissed, emerald eyes flaming. She growled through her teeth: "_Now_."

It took everything in Soul not to drop to his knees and beg for mercy.

* * *

><p><strong>11b<strong>

Soul scowled up at the ceiling, watching car headlights dance on the plaster. The springs in the couch hurt his back. His neck was beginning to ache from resting on the armrest so long. The flimsy blanket Maka had shoved in his hand before storming to her room hardly offered any warmth but it was the only thing Maka had been willing to give him when he asked.

He'd been afraid to ask for more.

She was _livid_.

He hadn't seen her this pissed since, well, he couldn't remember: he'd never pissed her off this badly before.

Going to sleep angry was not healthy but there wasn't much he could do to diffuse her rage. They had spoken a lot after they returned to their apartment, mainly about his past life as a gang member and its repercussions, and their voices had raised more than once. He had been on the verge of walking out on her at one point. But, thankfully, she wrapped it up with an icy stare that left him cold and stormed to her bedroom for the evening.

He shifted on the couch, sighing.

He had his own bedroom, actually. There was no reason to sleep on the couch. She had emptied out her desk and other such furniture to convert her study into a bedroom again. But he had been crashing in her bed more often than naught and sleeping in his own bedroom felt foreign and strange. Plus, he wouldn't be able to sleep knowing she was crying in her pillow out of rage, sadness, shock, who knew? He could hear her sniffling, though.

He groaned, slinging an arm over his eyes.

How uncool, to be thrown out of his element so easily by one girl.

"Damn it..." He was rather annoyed to admit it, but he didn't know how to handle these sorts of situations. Whenever he had gotten in fights with his past girlfriends, he'd never dwell on it. He'd shrug it off, continue living his life, until _they _came crawling back to _him_ and mumbled their apologies. He'd apologize, too, rather breezily at that, and a break up would follow soon after because of his frigidness.

But it was different now – it was _always _different with Maka. She made things difficult without even trying. Unable to take his conflicting thoughts, Soul threw the blanket off his body and took his phone out from his jeans pocket. He carefully padded to the front door, opening it as quietly as he could and closing it just as silently. The hall was deprived of anything living; the lights dim and the moonlight casting long shadows of other buildings through the fire escape down the hall.

"Hey, Nygus? It's Soul." He muttered, sighing heavily. He didn't think he'd _ever_ be the one to call her for help, but...

"_It's one in the morning on a Thursday. Lemme' guess – you finally pissed her off? What she do, kick you to the couch or something?"_

When Soul didn't answer, glaring holes at the wall across from him, he dropped his phone to his side when Nygus burst out laughing on the other line. He pinched the bridge of his nose, ground his teeth to reign in his temper at his friends laughter.

"_Now that's funny – cool guy Evans isn't so cool anymore, huh?"_

"I'm hanging up—!"

"_No, c'mon, Soul, take a joke, would you? Fine, I'll be serious. What'd you do? I'll see what I can do from there."_

After a seconds pause, Soul told her. He edited out a few insults he'd thrown at Maka – the nasty remarks she'd thrown back at him in reply – but he had a feeling Nygus knew what had transpired between them anyway. She was perceptive that way, and it was that perception that had saved their asses more than once.

"_Hmm...well, that ain't good. But this situation was something outta' your control – you did what you had to do to survive when you were younger, and there's nothing you can do to change that now. But think of the bright side: at least you never killed anyone. She would've probably kicked you out if you had."_

The thought disturbed him more than it should have. "Yeah, well, can't say the same for 'Star." He dropped his eyes at the thought. Black Star handled the assassinations, he coordinated them. He sat back in his leather chair, sipping his coffee, while his friend, with bloodlust in his eyes and a wicked grin on his face, stole the lives of anyone unfortunate enough to end up in the black list. "But she knows I organized them. I told her."

"_How'd she take it?"_

Soul grimaced. "That was the last thing I said before she locked herself up in her room. Even if I didn't kill anyone personally, I still have blood on my hands."

"_I can't say you didn't have a choice but you did see the wrong in your ways. It's better than us – we haven't learned one bit, even after being thrown in prison for our sins." _Nygus chuckled, somewhat bitterly. _"You got out of the business before it could suck you in forever, Soul, I'm sure she'll see that in time. She's just angry right now, and anger blinds you from many things.__"_

Soul slid down the wall, resting an arm over his drawn up knee. He could go for a cigarette at the moment but he had given up that habit shortly after he began seeing Maka at the club every weekend. Smokers breath was certainly not cool.

"_Give her some time to cool off. When she's level again, talk to her. Don't let her come to you, Soul, this is serious. The crimes you committed when you were in high school could land you life."_

"You think I don't know that?"

Nygus continued gently: "_When she looks calm, talk to her. Get her to understand you're outta' the business. She's a nice girl, unlike the others. I actually like her, for one."_

"...Yeah, alright, I got it." Soul mumbled. She was more than a nice girl: she was amazing, and he certainly did not want to lose something that felt so real to him. "Thanks, Nygus."

"_Anytime. Now, go get some sleep! There's no use losing sleep over this – you'll need all the energy you can get tomorrow. First day after a big fight is the worst. You should know, you got the shit beaten outta' you a lot when you were a shrimp."_

Soul let his head bump against the wall, resisting a groan. He knew _that: _Maka would likely give him the cold shoulder all day and refuse to even look at him, knowing his luck. He could only hope she wouldn't hold him in contempt for too long.

"Yeah, whatever. Night, mummy face."

"_G'night, shark boy."_

He smiled faintly, dropping the phone from his ear when he heard the dial tone.

Tomorrow would be a long day.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **I say my updating schedule can go put a bullet through its head. I'll just update whenever I feel like it, and recently I have been in the mood to write. A result of that is getting _way_ ahead in my current stories, this one included. So maybe I'll update daily, just like I did with Quicksand.

No promises, though, finals are coming up and I'll have to cram for that x3

But once it's _summer vacation._.. you'll get sick of hearing about me, I promise.

_Scarlett._


	12. Chapter 12

**Freefall  
>by. <strong>_Poisoned Scarlet_

* * *

><p><strong>12a<strong>

* * *

><p>This man was a <em>demon incarnate.<em>

He'd be the death of her one day – _one day_, she was sure of this.

But no matter what, he was not forgiven. It had been at least two days since the incident and she had been going strong in the feat of ignoring him and simmering in her dark thoughts until he caught her unawares on the couch; made her drop her tennis shoes when his lips crashed against hers hungrily, apologies and promises breathed between each kiss.

But she refused to thaw under his attention.

At least, that's what she strove to do.

"Ah—_ngh_..._Soul_..." Her fingers clutched his hair as if they were reigns, pulling and yanking and tugging as his tongue explored the regions of herself that no one else had. The window was cracked open the slightest bit, allowing a draft to sweep through the room. But the soft breeze had nothing to do with why she trembled. The blinds themselves were parted that morning, allowing a faint shine of light to spill through her apartment; illuminating the usually dim interior.

It gave her greater clarity when she managed to spare him a glance, catching glimpses of his closed eyes and the way his tongue flicked out to stroke her. But she only managed glimpses of this before she weakened and tossed her head back, groaning with every swipe and nudge and lick of his tongue. She was still in slight denial that he could actually use those sharp teeth of his for something other than frightening people.

It was too early for this, Maka faintly knew, _far_ too early.

Just as he never saw her punches coming, she never saw his pounces.

"N-no, don't stop – _don't stop, Soul_!" Maka urgently pleaded, squirming under his mouth. Her thighs clamped around his head, toes curled with the steady build of her orgasm. It was so close, she realized almost dreamily_, so close_ and she could feel his fingers reach up to spread her wider; take her all in.

That seemed to be the final push she needed.

She shuddered with a cry, back arching and her thighs trapping him between her, as an explosion of ecstasy shot through every fiber of her being and rendered her breathless. Any coherent thought that had been swimming through her scrambled mind vanished, leaving behind a welcomed nothing that she expressed in a loud scream.

By the time she caught her breath, managed to restrict her high shouts of release, she was sure she was done for the day; hell, _week,_ why not? His own labored breathing against her folds was enough to make her swallow. She didn't know how much more of this she could take. He'd _break_ her if they continued on at the pace they were going...

It was when her legs lost all power, slumping over his shoulders, that he finally arose. He parted them, grabbing her by the hips and pushing her back against the couch so that he could kneel before her. She didn't bother to conceal herself – after _that_, what was there left to hide, really? – but she _did_ shift uncomfortably when she felt the rough material of his jeans rub against her tender sex.

"You look...dead." Soul snickered.

"_Shut up_, Soul!" Maka covered her face with her hands, finally feeling blood rush to her cheeks. She could sense his stare and it only made her blush harder. She caught a peek of him through the cracks between her fingers and her embarrassment doubled when she saw him licking his lips clean. "I can't believe you just did that to me..."

How had he even convinced her to go _along_ with it? She would never know. She was supposed to be angry at him, stewing in her own fury, yet one touch from his lips and all she had worked for crumbled around her.

It was annoying, how one boy managed to throw her out of her element so quickly.

"Why? It was fun. Always wanted to try it." He shot her a teasing grin. She groaned and continued to bury her face in her hands, struggling to construct something half-way decent to explain her sudden timidness. "C'mon, you act like you've never been licked before...wait...you _haven't, _have you?" He chuckled and she sunk deeper into the couch in reply.

She smacked him upside the head when his laugh didn't subside. "_Just _because you did this doesn't mean you're forgiven! I'm still not talking to you!" Maka warned, and Soul frowned. He buried his face in her chest, smiling at how hard her heart was beating. "...What are you doing?"

"Counting your heart beats."

"Why?"

He smiled, faintly. "It's a hobby."

"Weirdo..."

Soul snorted a laugh, looking up to see her staring out the window. She avoided his gaze, distracting herself with how bright the day was beginning to shape out. It was a good day for running - or it _would_ have been, if Soul hadn't stopped her. Her face warmed and she jumped when he spoke.

"You're a lot more shy than I thought you'd be." Soul murmured, pushing away strands of hair that had come loose in all her thrashing. "Do you really need all that alcohol in you so you could mess around?" He teased, and she finally looked at him; annoyed, ready to kick him off her and continue with the routine he'd rudely interrupted.

His eyes softened and a smile replaced his usual scowl.

Curiosity won over her anger.

His eyes were _always _different when they were intimate. They weren't cool ruby but rather intensified to a darker shade; like crimson, only not quite. It was as he were giving her permission to peer into his soul, and Maka wondered if he had ever allowed anyone else this private view. As if searching for confirmation that no one has, Maka leaned forward and wrapped her arms around his neck; burying her nose in his damp hair, absently noting that he'd _once again _used her shampoo instead of using his own.

"So...?"

"No. I'm still not talking to you."

"_Technically_, you're talking –"

"Don't ruin it."

Chuckling, he twirled the end of a pigtail around on his finger.

She could have stayed there all day, purring under his attention.

That was why she studiously ignored the pounding on her door a few minutes later, Black Star's loud call for Soul resounding through the entire complex. She tightened her grip on his shirt when he shifted.

"He's gonna' knock the door down at this rate."

"Let him." Maka mumbled, sourly. She looked down at him, finding him frowning at the door before he looked back at her expectantly. Reluctantly, she added: "I...don't want you to leave yet..."

His lips quirked into a smile at her mumbled defeat. "You think I do? I'd rather stay here than go deal with that idiot. But he'll break the door down if I don't get it – he knows I'm here." He pinched her nose fondly and dragged himself to the door. He looked over his shoulder to check if she had composed herself and found her fixing her skirt on her hips.

Maka heard Soul's: "what the hell do you want, Black Star?" as she padded to her bedroom to recover her strength.

There, she flung herself on her bed and breathed in the floral smell of her sheets. She could hear only fragments of what they were saying but it was enough to inform her that Black Star had gotten the concert tickets to some rock band that didn't interest her. She knew Soul would go – he had been raving about it all week before the incident a few days ago – but she'd firmly told him she'd stay behind this time around.

She was already succumbing to sleep when she felt the mattress sink with weight and felt his hand nudge her awake.

"Hey, I'll be back by around four in the morning." Soul whispered as her eyes fluttered open. "Gotta' leave now if we wanna' make it on time."

"Okay." Maka stifled a yawn. She gazed sleepily at him. "Don't do anything reckless – I don't want to have to bail you out of jail if Black Star drags you into one of his insane schemes."

Soul grinned toothily, glad to have gotten the OK from her. Everything seemed to be going smoothly - no whacks on his head, no withering looks, or scathing words - although that could've simply been because Maka looked about ready to go under for another few hours. "Got it! We'll keep it cool, don't worry, Maka." He kissed her cheek before walking out the door, closing it quietly behind him.

Maka rolled on her back, feeling torn between fondness and unease.

Their conversation a few days ago returned, stringing along all sorts of horrible images.

Maka shook herself from those dark thoughts - there was no way she could keep ignoring him because of it. She had told him she accepted him wholly now. The past was in the past, she had said...

She knew _just_ how to spend the rest of her day, she decided.

But first, a nap, and she rolled on her side to sleep.

* * *

><p><strong>12b<strong>

"Do you think they made it to Las Vegas safely?" Tsubaki asked a few hours later, stirring a cube of sugar in her tea. Maka had dropped by just two hours after Soul's departure and spent the rest of the day with her, reminiscing on old and new times and debating whether or not she had been too easy on him by letting her anger at him go. Tsubaki had been a tad more understanding when Maka told her a snippet of Soul's past after she got over the shock.

Needless to say, their conversation crumbled a lot of the fears Maka had been nursing for the past few days.

"I told Soul he should be the designated driver because Black Star is reckless but what if Black Star convinced him to let him drive?"

"Don't worry, Tsubaki, Soul knows better than to let Black Star drive for so long." Maka reassured, cross-legged on the floor. Tsubaki sat beside her, resting against a worn and comfy couch. "I'm sure they're enjoying the concert right now."

"The concert began at five..." Tsubaki glanced at the clock. Six fifty two reflected back. "I hope they had no problems getting in."

"You worry too much, Tsubaki!" Maka giggled, drawing her knees to her chest. She cocked her head to the side when Tsubaki dropped her eyes to her lap instead, tracing the ripples within her tea with a troubled frown. "Are you really that worried about Black Star?"

"Well, yes, of course!" Tsubaki blurted. She flushed immediately after. "He...he has grown on me over these past few weeks. I know you don't like him very much, Maka-chan, but he acts completely different when he is surrounded by his friends than when he is alone. It is his calm and peaceful attitude when he is with me that I like the most."

"I find it hard to believe he can sit still for more than five minutes." Maka muttered. Then she smiled. "But I wouldn't be surprised if he can with you around – you have a way of calming people down, Tsubaki!"

"_So I've been told. But sometimes I wish he'd be more energetic when he's with me._" Tsubaki spoke in her native tongue, wistfully. It was easier to convey her feelings in Japanese than English. "_I don't know what I want from him yet, but I'm sure my companionship is what he wants from me._"

"I think he wants more than a friend, Tsubaki." Maka quietly said, earning a look of confusion from her. She was tempted to say more but she forced a smile on her face instead, shaking her head. "Nevermind. Let's forget all about those two for now! What time does that drama start again?"

"Oh, ah, it's already started – hurry, turn on the TV!" Tsubaki rushed, laughing as Maka cheered that the drama hadn't started without them. But her laugh subsided soon after, leaving behind a faint smile that itself, too, extinguished when Tsubaki dwelled on the significance of Maka's words.

She couldn't place the reasons for why her heart beat so fast, but she knew it wasn't because she was scared at the thought of meaning more to Black Star.

No - she couldn't _wait._ She _eagerly awaited _the day it would happen and it was that type of arrogance that frightened her the most.

"I-I'll be right back! I have to go wash these before I forget." Tsubaki excused herself, picking up their empty cups and plates.

"Okay, but hurry! It's getting good!" Maka warned, eyes glued to the television screen. Her friend smiled weakly and rushed into the kitchen, placing the cups in the sink. The water ran cold; she soaped up the cups and rinsed them mechanically. Her mind was circling that single revelation; that one irrefutable, undeniable, fact that made her gut knot up and her conscious act up.

She was becoming just as egotistically blind as Black Star, and she wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not.


	13. Chapter 13

**Freefall  
>by. <strong>_Poisoned Scarlet_

* * *

><p><strong>13a<strong>

* * *

><p>She hadn't felt him arrive.<p>

She had sleepily dragged herself back to her apartment and crashed on her bed with a happy sigh somewhere around midnight. The day off had been just what she needed: tea with a friend matched along with a good drama, some good laughs, and a long conversation about her relationship with Soul.

But she realized he _had_ returned from the concert when she felt the sheets on her bed lift. A cold draft made her curl into herself but it was quickly replaced by a gust of hot air; a blow of his minty breath. His body was burning and she realized why when she caught a whiff of refreshing body wash: he had even managed to _shower_ before climbing into bed with her!

She must have been very deep in sleep to not notice that.

She wondered what time it was for a moment before speaking:

"How was it?" Maka mumbled, shifting to face him.

Soul stilled, sounding apologetic: "Uh, sorry. Did I wake you up?"

"S'okay." Maka yawned and stretched out in her bed, able to make out his faint outline with the aid of the fading moonlight. "How was the concert?"

"It was _awesome_! You should have gone – you have no idea what you missed out on!" Soul grinned, pulling the pillow from under her slightly so he could rest his head on it, too. "Except it got a little crazy around midnight with the mosh pits – Black Star got socked in the cheek for jumping in!" And he continued to relay all of the interesting events that took place at the concert; from the bands to their songs to the people to the rude employees at the food stands.

And Maka listened, smiling softly at his boyish enthusiasm.

It wasn't often she saw him this excited but she had noticed it mainly happened when it was something music-orientated. She remembered how enthusiastic he got when he gave her a little background on the CD's he brought to her. She also remembered being more interested in his glimmering eyes, his smiling lips, than the words he said...

"It sounds like you had a..." She stifled a yawn, "...really good time."

"Yeah, it was so cool. I wanna' go to another one." Soul sighed, contently. He glanced at her, sternly. "_You're_ coming with me next time!"

"No, thanks! Concerts are too noisy!" Maka complained with a shake of her head. She stretched out again and rolled on her side, snuggling into her pillow. "I'd rather stay at home reading a book – !"

"_Please _tell me that's not what you did all day?" Soul cringed.

Maka cracked one eye open to glare at him. "_NO! _I spent the day with Tsubaki, for your information!"

"Better than nothing." Soul muttered, and placated her rising temper by cradling her in his arms. His breath on the crook of her neck, his eye lashes brushing against her cheek, Maka felt her anger ebb away as silence reigned in her bedroom once more. Her arms snaked around his neck to bring him closer, fingers tangling with his moist hair.

How strange, Maka drowsily thought, it was to feel lonesome after being with him for so long. It had roughly been half a year since she had first met Soul and she could not longer remember those long days of solitude. It was as if they had been washed away, like footprints in the sand, because now a subtle loneliness stalked her whenever he was away.

She wondered if it was the same for him, as sleep threatened to overtake her.

"Maka?"

"Mm?"

"What would you do..." Soul began, cautiously. His voice was very low; she had to struggle to hear him. Maka was too busy struggling to stay awake to notice his growing trepidation as he said: "...if I told you I cared about you a lot?"

"It's okay, Soul." Maka drowsily slurred, a faint smile clinging to her lips. She wasn't fully conscious of the significance of his question, nor the strength of her words. She was simply too fatigued to keep her eyes open any longer. She said the first thing that came to mind: "I care about you a lot, too..."

"Do you..." He paused and said nothing for the longest time. In the time it took him to muster up enough motivation and courage to finish his sentence, she was already half-way into a dreamless sleep. "...love me?"

"Yeah..." She mumbled, and decided she didn't mind it when Soul pulled her into his arms for a crushing embrace.

"Nng, Soul, c'mon, wanna' sleep." Maka groaned, but he merely tightened his arms around her; whispered something that vaguely sounded like her name but she could be wrong. He was still speaking in that hoarse, low, tone of his.

For a delirious moment, she wondered what sparked such a strong reaction out of him.

Then she decided that could be answered in the morning and she let her consciousness go; unaware that she had just confirmed the intensity of Soul's emotions towards her with that simple word.

* * *

><p><strong>13b<strong>

She didn't quite know what was wrong with him but that morning he had forgotten his wallet on the kitchen table, and she knew for a fact that without his wallet, he would not eat lunch.

And if he did not eat lunch, he would arrive home with a ravenous hunger and be forever in a horrible mood until he got something in that black hole he called a stomach. But before that, his irate mood would influence her own mood and they would likely clash in a battle of scathing words and dark looks. The _last_ thing they needed was another argument, Maka had thought when she picked up his wallet.

So now, a few hours later, she stood before a tall skyscraper, holding a bag of fast food in her hand and a drink in the other, staring up at the gigantic sign that read _Death Jam Studios _in fancy script. It was a tall building, shooting straight up past the clouds with hundreds upon hundreds of window panes that revealed nothing to what was happening inside.

She faintly wondered just how she would be able to _find_ him before she swallowed her unease and strode inside to the lobby area. There was a woman at the information desk, with curling scarlet hair and hazel eyes that seemed to laugh as she spoke into the phone. But when she approached, she muttered something into the receiver and greeted her with a beaming smile.

"Hello! How may I help you?"

"Um, yes, I'd like to know what floor Soul Evans is located at." Maka asked, then held up the bag of fast food. "He forgot his wallet so I bought him lunch instead."

The woman instantly looked uneasy at her request. "Oh. Name, please? I'll ring him up right now."

"Maka Albarn." Maka rose a brow, slightly annoyed by the delay. Now, why would she need her name? All she had to do was give her the floor and the studio number and she would be on her merry way. But the woman rang him up, waited, and relayed the information in a tired sort of voice.

Then she sat ramrod straight, wide-eyed in disbelief.

"O-okay! I'll send her up immediately, Mr. Evans!" She rushed, hanging up. She looked at her rather mystified but eagerness soon overshadowed her twinge of jealousy. "Are you his girlfriend?" She demanded in a hush. Maka startled at the bold question.

"Ah...yes."

"_Oh, my God!_ No way!" She squealed, with a burst of giddy laughter. She leaned over, as if scrutinizing her for any flaws. But whatever flaws she _did_ find were left unsaid as she cooed: "You're the cutest thing _ever_! I never would have thought he'd go for cutesy girls like you!"

"Thanks?" Maka answered, puzzled.

"I get a lot of girls that want to bring him lunch, y'know!" The woman rambled, and Maka's small smile instantly left her face. "But they never get farther than here! He's a little famous, mostly because of his brother. You know his brother, right? Wes Evans? Almost as hot as him, if not more, I _swear_! And he's still single right now! Can you believe that? Too bad Soul isn't single anymore!" She sighed, dreamily. "If only I managed to score _one date _with him..."

"Right. Of course." Maka grit out, forcing on smile for the sake of being polite. Her fist threatened to crush the cup of soda but she would do _more_ than that if that woman didn't shut up now while she was ahead. "Can I get the floor number now, please? Before his lunch goes cold?"

"Oh, right!" The woman giggled, pointing down the hall to the elevators. She cheerfully told her the floor number and gave her quick instructions on how to reach his studio – and before she could delve into another rant, Maka crisply said her goodbyes and just barely held herself back from running to the elevators.

_Famous, huh? _Maka seethed, breathing in controlled breaths. Even the mellow music within the elevator could not soothe her annoyance. She got off the elevator on the tenth floor, storming down the hall. She nearly got lost once in her angry march but soon she found herself standing before a single door, staring at its dark paint finish and the plaque _Soul E. Evans _that was nailed firmly under the room number.

She knocked on the door a few times, shifting her weight to her other foot as she waited.

"Doors open!" She heard his muffled shout, and Maka turned the lever with her elbow and pushed inside awkwardly with her hip. She glared at him, watching him twist a dial and remove the headphones from his ears. She caught it before he could hide it: a flash of nervousness in his eyes, a swallow and a quick intake of breath as if preparing himself for something unpleasant. The look made her gut wrench but she shook the ominous feelings off to speak.

"You forgot your wallet at home, you idiot." Maka deadpanned, tossing him his wallet without another word. He caught it, sensing her bad mood, but unable to help himself:

"Black Star burn a book in front of you or something?" He asked with that infuriatingly even tone of his, and she instantly turned with a snarl, taking out a thick textbook from within her book bag.

He should have _really_ seen that coming.

But, as usual, he never did.

"MAKA CHOP!"

"OW! Shit, damn it...!" Soul groaned, holding his aching head. He was lucky the band had left for lunch a few minutes ago or it would have been embarrassing to have them watch his ass being handed to him by his girlfriend – who was, for the record, half his size and looked half her age. "What the hell, Maka? I was kidding!"

"I just came here to drop off your lunch." Maka calmly told him although he knew she was _anything_ but calm. She was more frightening when she feigned serenity than when she expressed her anger, in Soul's opinion. "Bye."

"Hold up – you don't have anything to do right now, right?" Soul asked, rubbing his head. He added, in a much smoother voice: "You don't have another lecture until tomorrow...so why don't you just kick it here until I get off?"

She considered it for a moment, clenching the doorknob beneath her hand a few times, before she nodded and dropped her hand from the knob. "Alright."

Soul breathed easy. So far, so good. "So...who pissed you off? My fan club?" He joked, but he had unknowingly hit the nail on the head.

"MAKA CHOP!"

"UGH!"

The rest of his lunch break was spent with Maka calmly reading a novel and Soul eating his burger broodingly, shooting her looks ever so often and making sure to look away when she rose to meet his glare with one of equal – if not more – ferocity.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **I'm double-updating because I'm cool like that.

And because this story is technically coming to a close.

But I have been diligently working on other multi-chaptered stories, so you all have nothing to worry about! :D

_Scarlett._


	14. Chapter 14

**Freefall  
>by. <strong>_Poisoned Scarlet_

* * *

><p><strong>14a<strong>

* * *

><p>Soul had always had luck on his side.<p>

For example, he was lucky he had a way with words; was able to reel Maka back from her fuming thoughts when he said something thoughtlessly.

He was lucky the band had finished early and packed up immediately with the excuse of needing to be elsewhere.

He was lucky that whatever had been haunting her thoughts had transformed into that needy desire that lit up her emerald eyes like a thousand matches the instant the last band member said his goodbyes.

And, today, he was lucky the room was sound proof.

She kneeled between his legs, her hands quickly undoing the restraints that hid his straining arousal. Emerald eyes sparkled heatedly beneath the soft lighting in his studio room, her expression warm and full of desire. He didn't need to ask her if she was sure about this because the hungry look in her eye spoke volumes when she revealed him to herself for the first time in many nights.

Her lips fastened on him, tightened around him. Soul pushed her head down upon his shaft, shutting his eyes at the sucking pressure of her mouth, the quick flutters of her tongue, that caused his mind to empty of any thought. He felt her fingers dance across the hot flesh of his cock, grind from the base until they pushed up and up and her tongue licked the tip over and over.

"_Fuck, Maka_!" He shut his eyes. He breathed steady, controlled, breaths through clenched teeth. The heat from the lights had nothing to do with the sweat that broke on his forehead, the reason his skin felt so hot to the touch whenever her tongue wrapped around him.

He groaned as his cock swelled within her mouth, his breath burning in his lungs with each bob of her head. The sudden gust of cold air against his wet cock when she released him gave him the opportunity to suck in air into his pained lungs. Then he felt her tongue run up the length; her lips suck the head before they engulfed him again, hot and slick as silk.

Heels dug into the carpeted floor, fingers buried into the soft leather of his armrest as she breathed against him before taking him full in her mouth once more. The back of her throat felt amazing; made him buck into her despite himself, the chair squeaking beneath him with every thrust. Grabbing her head, forcing her mouth to take all of his cock, his voice nearly broke when he cursed and she moaned; the vibrations sending him over the edge with a shudder that racked his entire body.

Thick, hot streams dripped over her mouth, spilled down her chin. Maka swallowed some but most ended up sliding down the curve of her throat. She licked him clean, his weak groans rousing a sense of smug satisfaction from her, before she leaned back and wiped away the remains of his release with the back of her hand.

Soul slumped into his chair, boneless, and watched her clean herself off of his essence. With sleepy, hooded, eyes, he drawled: "That was _fantastic._"

"Really?" Maka asked, hesitant. Her cheeks were flushed. "Because I was working with what Tsubaki told me to do..."

Soul stared. Had this been her first time, like it had been his first time a few days ago? "...You've never given a blow-job to someone before?"

"Well, Hiro, but..." Maka dropped her eyes, conflicted. "I didn't want to so it didn't go very far before I stopped..."

Soul was silent for a second, watching her wipe her hand using the hem of her shirt quietly. He zipped his pants up without speaking and looked at her again. "Come here." He extended his hand to her, bringing her to sit on his lap. His arms wrapped consolingly around her and her own wrapped around his neck, her cheek resting against his collarbone. "You don't have to deal with that bastard anymore. I won't let him get anywhere near you again." He whispered against her hair, closing his eyes. "I promise."

She felt his faint smile when she stiffened, suddenly unsure. That was a big promise to make and she had not been oblivious to how Hiro worked out in the same gym as her now, tired to speak to her but couldn't because _Soul _came with her now; how she sometimes saw his car pass by when she walked down the street; how said car always seemed to park a few ways down her apartment complex, as if keeping an eye on her.

"Cool guys don't break their promises, Maka."

Maka gnawed on her lip but pressed herself closer to him. She had told her papa that if she were ever in trouble, she would have Soul.

She closed her eyes and smiled and, for the first time in a long time, believed in a promise.

"Okay."

* * *

><p><strong>14b<strong>

Tsubaki watched him carefully from her place on the couch. Her tea had gone cold by now and the television had been turned off in favor of watching the man who had captured her attention so wholly meditate. Black Star sat cross legged on the kitchen table, eyes closed in silent concentration. He was absolutely still. His stillness reminded her of her own father and his intense meditation sessions when she was little; how he looked like a beautiful statue underneath a halo of light, much like how this man looked like at the moment...

Tsubaki shifted, a silent motion, but she stilled when Black Star's eyes shot open and he stared straight at her. His eyes closed again and Tsubaki breathed easy. The concentration that Black Star held was amazing; his presence was completely zero and it was unlike anything she had ever sensed before.

She did not recognize this man sitting on her kitchen table.

She usually felt this way when he came over to meditate.

It was this side of Black Star that Tsubaki coveted. If there was anything in the world she would be selfish of, it would be _this_ – just watching him silently count the seconds to an hour in his head; sit very still with such graceful, dangerous, beauty...

"Black Star?" Tsubaki softly called.

He did not so much as move but she knew he was listening.

"Remember that day when you and Soul went to that concert? Maka-chan came over to keep me company, and we began to discuss her strained relationship with Soul." At this, Black Star perked. He turned his head the slightest bit to better hear her. "It's not anything serious! Well, I suppose it _is_ serious, given the awful deeds he did when he was younger... but there was something that didn't add up when Maka-chan recounted the tale. You told me that you and Soul have been friends since you were in primary school... you did everything together, you're as close as brothers... but if Soul was the mastermind behind the assassinations, who _committed_ the assassinations themselves?"

The accusation was veiled beneath her sweet voice.

It was dead silent.

Tsubaki watched with baited breath as Black Star's eyes slowly opened. They did not meet her desperate ones but instead looked toward a spot on the carpet. Black Star slowly rose his eyes, revealing cold, hard, blue that spoke of years of labor and gore. Her fingers dug into the fabric of her couch as his cool stare cleared any doubt from her mind.

"Oh...god..." Tsubaki gasped, slapping a hand over her mouth. Her eyes watered. "Oh, god...oh, god...Black Star, what did you do? Oh, god, no..." She sucked in a sob, shoulders quaking beneath the painful weight of reality.

She had a murderer in her house.

She befriended a murderer.

_She_ _loved a murderer._

"Tsubaki."

"No, _please_!" Tsubaki cried, flinching away from his touch. She had not felt him approach her in her shock. Tsubaki ducked her head and squeezed her eyes shut, both terrified and desperate. She had always been the weakest in her family, always the guarded and pampered heir, which had earned her a siblings contempt and a fathers disappointment. She whimpered when his hand lightly brushed her hair, traced down the curve of her jaw in a gesture of fondness.

"Tsubaki, look at me."

"I..I..."

"Look at me."

She bit her lip.

"_Tsubaki_, _look at me!_" Black Star barked harshly, and her head snapped up. Her tear-filled eyes stared into his own; searched the tired, beaten, eyes of a man who proclaimed to be higher than the gods themselves but was ultimately destined for the flaming fires of hell. Slowly, the trembles that wracked her body began to cease, and Tsubaki quietly watched as Black Star fell on his knees before her in a sign of defeat. He took a breath, holding her gaze as he said: "I'm not going to hurt you. I'd _never_ hurt you. You're the only person who has _ever _listened to me all the way. I could never hurt a person like that."

"B-Black Star...?" Tsubaki whispered, jumping when he let his hand fall to his side limply. She missed the warmth with a vengeance that wrenched her heart because the desire was layered with a pathetic fear of him.

"I'd understand if you would never want to speak to me again." Black Star said, resigned. "What I have done in the past is unforgivable. I chose the path of a demon, not of a warrior, and I realized that too late." His jaw clenched, eyes tight. "I was in too far." His eyes lost their fire, shoulders slumped. "My hands will always be stained by blood, no matter what I do. No matter how many people I save, no matter how many good deeds I do, it'll never wash off. I'll always remember those that were taken away by my sword. Always."

He had come to accept the tragedies caused by the blade of his sword and the viciousness of his ego.

But could she? The weakest in her clan? The pampered, dolled-up, China Doll, heir?

"_Oh_, _Black Star_!" Tsubaki's eyes sprung with sorrowful tears. She released a shuddering cry for the tormented man before she threw herself at him. Her arms were a vice around him, her compassionate tears soaking his shirt. His hands were cautious and apprehensive as they placed themselves carefully on her upper shoulders.

She cried for a lot of things.

For Black Star's sins, for her estranged family, for her deceased brother, for her weakness.

But, mainly, she cried because she knew she was in too far, too.

She cried because couldn't let go of this ray of sunshine anymore – no matter how much blood dripped from his hands, no matter how much anguish his sword and his pride had caused.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **So, I give you all a reason to whack off, and then I totally kill it with the next scene.

How do you like me now? xD

_Scarlett._


	15. Chapter 15

**Freefall  
>by. <strong>_Poisoned Scarlet_

* * *

><p><strong>15a<strong>

* * *

><p>"Nothing is wrong, Maka-chan." Tsubaki smiled prettily, hiding her discomfort by taking a drink of her tea. Maka fingered the rim of her cup while Tsubaki distracted herself by watching ripples spread through the hot drink with every jerky move. "Professor Stein's workload is just getting the best of me, that's all."<p>

"Yeah, he has been hard on us this whole year." Maka offered a sympathetic smile. "Even I've been struggling to finish the work he's assigned us. He isn't going to stop just because the end of the semester is near, though – I heard he's going to double it soon."

Tsubaki groaned, shoulders slumping. "Is he, really? Oh, I hope he doesn't! I'm already very behind on the work!"

"How far behind are you?"

"Two assignments." She meekly admitted.

"I can help you if you want." She offered, helpfully. "I'm ahead by one assignment."

"You're _ahead?_" Tsubaki gawked although she quickly shook off her surprise. It should not come as a surprise: Maka would always be a scholar at heart, no matter if Soul had managed to loosen up a bit and broadened her views on how to entertain oneself without the need of a book or studying. "Would it be too much trouble if you helped me out?"

"It wouldn't be a problem at all, Tsubaki!" Maka beamed, knowing that this may be her only chance to discover what had been eating at her friend for the past two weeks. Tsubaki's smile had been dim, forced, and her usually calm temperament had been replaced with a nervous, restless, air. Even Black Star had managed to pick up on it although Maka was convinced Tsubaki's restlessness had something to do with him.

"Then we better get started today." Tsubaki smiled, a little more genuine. "B...Black Star won't be joining us, too. He said he had an engagement elsewhere..."

"Where _else_ does that idiot have to be?" Maka snorted, swirling around what was left of her soft drink. "The gym or something?"

Tsubaki merely pasted on a smile to hide her trepidation.

* * *

><p><strong>15b<strong>

"_Aye! Being me another round, yeah_?" A raucous voice hollered from somewhere down the bar table, a crowd of rugged and built men surrounding him and paying rapt attention to the television screen. Their eyes hardly left the screen, engrossed in the football game that may very well earn them an extra fifty bucks if luck was on their side.

"How do you deal with that all the time?" Soul asked bluntly, sparing a glance at the crowd of men when they burst into cheers as their team scored a point. Nygus merely smiled and continued to pour another round of beers for the men.

"You just take it, Soul, there ain't much else you can do." Nygus dismissed, tapping a passing employee on the shoulder and gesturing for him to bring the group of men their drinks. "Business is business."

"Sounds lame." Black Star commented from beside Soul, tapping his shot glass on the table impatiently. "Refill!"

Nygus rose a sharp brow. "That's your fourth one."

"Your point?"

Nygus refilled his glass with a shrug of the shoulders and exchanged a look with Soul, who let nothing but a simple shrug answer his friends silent question. Nygus watched Black Star down that drink as well, nose wrinkled against the bitter, burning, taste of tequila. He waited for a few seconds before sliding the shot glass back to her, demanding another shot.

"Just do it." Soul muttered when Nygus protested. "The faster he gets drunk, the easier it is to make him talk."

"Ha! As if six shots can get _me_ drunk!" Black Star haughtily sniffed, downing this shot as well. Soul rolled his eyes when Black Star exhaled loudly, grinning out: "See? It's gonna' take a helluva lot more than that to get the great _me_ to start talking! Gimmie another one, mummy face!"

"Whiskey alright?"

Soul smirked at his friends sneaky tactics.

"Bring it on!" Black Star slapped a hand on the table, challenge flaming in his eyes.

As it turned out, two shots of whiskey seemed to be his limit.

"...She _hates_ me...she totally _hates _me, man, it's not even funny..." Black Star mumbled depressingly, slumped over the bar table lifelessly. He stared glumly at the polished onyx tabletop, gripping his half-empty shot glass in his hand as he recalled the fear in her eyes. "I screwed up big time. Fuck, if your dumbass girlfriend hadn't said anything to her, this wouldn't be happenin'! This is all that flat-chests fault!"

"Hey, who you callin' a dumbass?" Soul snapped. "That's Maka you're talking about. Watch it."

Black Star scoffed and waved him off, stewing in his melancholic thoughts. He finished his drink, halfheartedly sliding the shot glass to Nygus once more. The woman filled this glass with water instead of more alcohol and Black Star drank it all, seemingly not noticing the change in drinks.

"Alright, so she found out about your past job, too." Nygus began, after he let his head thump on the tabletop. "I'll tell you what I told Soul: let her cool down—!"

"She's not _pissed_!" Black Star snapped, sending her a dark glare. "She's...she's scared." He frowned deeply and slumped further into his seat. He flicked the shot glass with his finger grimly. "She's _scared _of me. Of what I did before..."

Nygus and Soul exchanged uneasy looks but it was Soul who spoke up next:

"Look, man, although Tsubaki looks like a _rabbit_ could scare her into hiding, she's stronger than she looks. Maka called me an hour ago to tell me that she was gonna' help her out with some schoolwork. Maybe she'll be able to get her to open up and they can talk it out – do what girls do when they're alone – and she'll get over it." Soul finished his soda as Black Star pondered this new outcome. "Maka's good at giving pep talks. She'll get Tsubaki back on track in no time."

"Yeah..._yeah_! You're right!" Black Star brightened, and pointed a finger at Nygus. "Gimmie another shot, you hag—OUCH!"

"Who you callin' a _hag,_ boy?"

"Well, I _dunno_', why don't you look in a mirror and tell me—UGH!"

"'Star, just_ shut up _ before she brings out her knives..." Soul hissed, Black Star face down on the tabletop holding his possibly cracked skull, a string of curses answering Soul.

Nygus merely cracked her knuckles with a satisfied huff. "Listen to Soul, you midget, and maybe you'll leave with your head intact!"

"Who you callin' a _midget, _you old bit—!"

Soul cringed when Black Star was body slammed on the tabletop by one furious Nygus, the crowd of rugged men cheering when their team made another score, and the others in the bar not at all surprised by the outcome of Black Star's drunken boldness.


	16. Chapter 16

**Freefall  
>by. <strong>_Poisoned Scarlet_

* * *

><p><strong>16a<strong>

* * *

><p>Hiro stroked his thumb over the glossy surface of a photograph. It was creased and worn from the many times he had folded it up and securely stored it in his wallet after burning her smiling face in his retinas. The image was fading now, her emerald eyes washed out to a dull green. But her smile was just as radiant as ever – but it didn't match the radiance of how she smiled <em>now.<em>

His eyes flickered up when the metal door of her apartment complex swung open. He watched her dig around her book bag briefly, checking and rechecking her school supplies, before she swung a leg over the classic motorcycle parked on the curb. She was followed closely by Soul, who ignited his bike and glanced into one of his side mirrors as he always did in the morning.

And, as always, Hiro scowled back, catching glimpses of his mocking grin before they left for Shibusen U.

Instead of cursing him in his mind, Hiro resignedly glanced back down at the photograph. It had been taken a long time ago – during the beginning of their courtship, when everything was fabulous and _she_ smiled at _him _as if she cared. Now he only saw contempt and distrust in her eyes and it hurt him more than he'd like to admit.

Hiro folded the photograph for the hundredth time, left to his loud thoughts. How long had it been since he'd taken to watching her from a distance? It was supposed to be the other way around, Hiro thought sourly, _she _was supposed to be watching _him _from a distance. But the conceited thought collapsed at her memory. Maybe he had made a mistake, to treat her so carelessly, maybe he should have held onto her a little tighter.

_But it's over now, _Hiro thought bitterly, Soul flashing behind his eyelids. _I don't get it. What is it about that guy that she likes so much? He looks like such a dick with that stupid motorcycle and his retarded white hair... _Hiro rested his chin on the wheel, burning with jealousy. His fury ebbed to a quiet annoyance as he glared out of his window-shield.

Then his phone rang; a familiar number flashing on the screen.

It was the girl he had been seeing for the past few days: Tsugumi Harudori. She was a nice girl – with wide, onyx, eyes and a cute, beaming, smile. Her hair was tied into two high pigtails as well and she wasn't as outgoing and flamboyant as the girls he usually dated. She was similar to Maka, but not the same. This girl was more sweet, more outgoing, than Maka had ever been.

Maka was daring, bold, and courageous when the situation called for it. Tsugumi was rowdy and fun daily; not against trying new things, if a little immature for his tastes. But she _was_ a few years younger than him, so he expected her to be a little wired on energy. This would be the first time he dated someone younger than him as well...

"Hello?" Hiro answered, flatly. His tone improved somewhat upon hearing her tinkling laugh. "I'm just... getting some coffee." He glanced back down at the photograph clenched in his hand. "Yeah, sure, I'll see you in twenty. Bye." He snapped his phone closed and tossed it back on the passenger seat, stroking his thumb over Maka's photograph.

She was out of his reach now. She had been out of his reach the instant she confronted him at the bar and threatened to break his bones if he tried anything on Soul. He was sure, after that stint with the cops, Maka would break his bones if she _ever_ saw him again. He hadn't meant to call the police on Soul (not really) but he had been so enraged, so _confused, _by her blatant rejection that he had simply picked up the phone and spilled confidential information to them.

Hiro had a feeling he knew why Soul was still a free man but he pushed the thought away, going back to stroking the worn image of his ex-girlfriend. It didn't matter anymore; it _shouldn't _matter anymore. It was as Maka said: they weren't together anymore. They had their own, separate, lives now. They could only wish each other luck and disappear from the others lives until fate intervened.

He had been about to leave to meet up with Tsugumi when his phone vibrated again. He flipped it open, staring at the text message that stared back at him:

_I hope you don't mind homemade pizza! 'Cause I tried making it :D It tastes pretty good! Umm, I think..._

A smile twitched on his face.

He shut his phone and contemplated the last picture he had of Maka.

Before he could change his mind, Hiro tore the image in half. He felt regret swell in his throat instantly but he did not stop until the picture was nothing but bits and pieces of its old self. He lowered the window and, fist outside, hesitated. His eyes strayed back to his phone, to the sheepish text message sent by Tsugumi, and then a flash of her laughing smile appeared in his mind.

She may not be Maka but he felt something for that girl; something soft, _sweet_, that he had once felt for Maka but never let develop until it was too late.

Maybe this time it would be different.

He watched the pieces of Maka's image flutter away down the street, caught in a whirl of air.

Hiro drove out of the neighborhood with a weight lifted from his chest, deciding that pinning after a girl who had already sold her heart – be it to a boy or the devil himself – was a waste of time and more than a little creepy.

* * *

><p><strong>16b<strong>

Maka was freaking out.

Soul didn't need to know her personally to know she was freaking out on him.

He watched as she paced back and forth in their living room, muttering under her breath and glancing at the clock fervently. Soul was sprawled on the couch as usual, entertaining himself by watching his girlfriend blow things completely out of proportion once more.

"...can't believe mama told me to ask papa to pay for my ticket...ugh, asking _him_ for money..." She mumbled to herself, stopping and tugging on both her pigtails in exasperation. "I'm _screwed_! _We're_ screwed!"

"Maka. Cool it. Your moms not getting married tomorrow – you still got time." Soul drawled.

"We have _three weeks_, Soul!"

"We still got time." He insisted.

"No, we _don't_! We have to buy the plane tickets, _I_ have to get my dress fitted for the wedding, and _you_ need to buy a suit and – mama wants me to be there a few days early so I could help with the preparations and I _still_ have to turn in work for Professor Stein – !" Maka groaned and rubbed her temples to stave off an oncoming headache. "There's too much going on right now! We need to get the plane tickets by next week at most, but the prices are so high right now..."

"Maka."

"And Professor Stein won't excuse me if I go to my mothers wedding! He'll still expect me to turn in the work! My grade is going to suffer so much..."

"Maka!"

"And the _dress_ – everyone else already has their dress and mama bought her wedding dress months ago! I'm the only one who's left – !"

"MAKA!" Soul snapped, effectively snipping her train of thought. "Come here."

"Why?" She asked, suspiciously.

Undeterred, Soul held out his hand. "Just do it." At her narrowed-eyed look, Soul rolled his eyes. "Maka, just trust me and come."

She approached him cautiously, taking his outstretched hand and not resisting when he pulled her into his lap. He rested his chin on her shoulder and his arms wove around her waist. His soft touch was enough to calm her and pay attention to what he had to say without interruptions.

"Your dad called while you were asleep." Soul began. She stiffened but he didn't pause. "He said he'd buy the ticket for you and your mom doesn't have to pay him back – all you have to do is call him and he'll order it."

"He knows about mama's remarriage...?" Maka whispered, apprehensively. She had hardly spoken to her father after her confrontation, but the times she _did_ speak to him, he was determined to smother her with fatherly affection. It eased the resentment that had fueled her for the past few years when she caught his genuine smile directed at her – not one of his lady friends or girlfriends. "I never even told him about it..."

"He found out a while ago. Probably why he didn't drop by anymore." Soul guessed.

"So he's willing to buy us our plane tickets?" Maka perked up, wanting to avoid speaking of why he hadn't been dropping by to bug her anymore.

"He's buying _your _ticket."

Confused, she asked: "But what about yours?"

Soul snorted. "You swear he's gonna' buy _my_ ticket, too. That guy hates me."

"What – no! You need a ticket, too! You're coming with me!" Maka insisted, turning her body to face him. Soul looked his casual self; not too concerned about this change in plans. It annoyed her greatly. "Then are you going to buy your own ticket? Papa can spare an extra four hundred – he's got nothing else to waste it on except girls and drinking!" She added, bitterly.

"Maka, it's cool, I'll just buy my own ticket." He dismissed.

"But—!"

"Seriously, it's not cool for my girlfriends _dad_ to buy my ticket for me." Soul muttered, moodily. "Even if he _did_ offer, I'd probably turn it down."

Maka watched him for a second before slumping against him with a stressed groan. Her arms came to wrap around his neck and he adjusted her comfortably on his lap. She dropped one hand from his neck to his chest, feeling the scar beneath the material of his shirt. She always thought he was lucky to have survived – if he hadn't, she would have never met such a wonderful person. She sometimes thought that if the wound had taken his life, she would probably still be with Hiro; still crying over him, hurting over him, miserable and heartbroken.

She owed a lot to Soul, Maka realized.

Maka shifted up and, without warning, kissed him.

"What was that for?" Soul asked, bewildered but pleased. She merely buried her face in his neck, pressing her lips against his pulse. With a soft snort at her ridiculousness, Soul sunk into her embrace and listened to her soft breathing against his neck.


	17. Chapter 17

**Freefall  
>by. <strong>_Poisoned Scarlet_

* * *

><p><strong>17a <strong>

* * *

><p>"I <em>really<em> don't want to do this."

"Too bad. He's coming."

"I know. I can see him from here... Soul, can we _please_ just go now?"

Soul jammed his hands in his pockets, grinning out. "Nope."

Maka groaned. "I'm not ready."

"Then _get_ ready." Soul shot her a cheeky grin. "'Cause here he comes, ready to smother his precious baby with his _love_."

Maka glared, hissing: "_Shut up, you jerk - !"_

"My wonderful Maka! YOUR DADDY HAS ARRIVED—_ugh!_" Spirit landed face down on the floor when he tripped over the curb, a sprawl of limbs as his daughter shook her head in embarrassment. Soul turned away with a hand slapped over his mouth, stifling laughter at her fathers complete fail. Spirit regained his good humor quickly enough, bouncing back up and bringing Maka into the tight hug he had intended on giving her. "I'm so happy to see you before you leave! Papa's gonna' miss you so much! Say hi to your mom for me and don't talk to strangers _and_ be sure to call me when you get there, okay? I want to make sure you get there all in one piece!"

"Papa, I'll be _fine_! I'm an adult already, I think I can manage getting on and off a plane by myself!" Maka mumbled, flushing when several passersby laughed softly to themselves at Spirit's overprotective muttering. "Thanks for seeing us off, papa, I really appreciate it, but we have to go _now_ if we want to make our flight!"

"Of course, sweetheart, I'll see you in two weeks!" Spirit smiled, warmly. He patted her head affectionately. "Be good!"

Maka was hesitant at first but she gave him a full, genuine, smile that had her father dazed and more than a little euphoric.

"Come on, Soul!" Maka called, hastily making her escape to the ticketing line before the situation could grow any more awkward for her.

"Bye, sweetheart!" Spirit happily waved, a goofy smile on his face. "Oh,_ noyoudon't_—!" Spirit growled, grabbing Soul by the shoulder before he could follow Maka.

"What the - ?"

"Listen here, you little brat," Spirit hissed, eyes narrowed dangerously. Soul glared back defiantly. "You better take good care of my Maka, do you hear me? I _know _I may not have taken very good care of her in the past," Spirit cut him off before he could protest, "but you still have a shot. _Don't_ screw this up. If I get even _one_ complaint from her, you're going to have to deal with me, got it?"

Soul glared. "Loud and clear."

Spirit's own glare softened. His fingers stopped digging into Soul's arm and Spirit eased off, resigned. "And if Kami causes you any problems, don't take it personally, alright?"

"Why would she cause me any problems?" Soul asked, confused. Maka stood in line to have her ticket checked, casting him looks over her shoulder impatiently.

"Kami is a little—okay, she's _really _difficult to please." Spirit sighed tiredly, deciding sugar coating his ex-wife's shrewdness was unnecessary. She had probably cursed him, wished death upon him, more times than he could bother to count. "Maka studies so hard not of her own volition but because Kami _forced _her. Maka could barely read and Kami was already forcing her to summarize middle-school level books..." Spirit sighed, troubled. "Just listen to me when I say that she'll give you a hard time. Trust me – you're not exactly average."

Soul snorted a laugh. "Why the sudden advice, old man? I thought you hated me."

"I don't _hate _you!" Spirit denied, defensive. "I just _hate _that you're with my little Maka!"

"She ain't so little anymore."

"I know..." Spirit mumbled, depressed. He cheered up soon after, making Soul believe this man went through moods faster than a woman on her rag. "I admit, you're a _little _better than the others – but just _a little_!" Spirit insisted, upon catching Soul's amusement. "Don't get the wrong idea! I'm not saying I _approve_ of you or anything!"

"Nah, it's cool. I get you." Soul smiled, lopsidedly. Spirit studied him for a moment before relaxing as well. "I'll keep an eye on her for you. I'll make her call you when we get there, too." Soul pivoted on his heel and waved lazily, heading over to where Maka waited impatiently to no doubt interrogate him on what he and her father were discussing about so animatedly. "Later, Spirit!"

For a second, Soul believed that was the end of it.

Spirit somewhat accepted him as Maka's boyfriend; even warned him of his ex-wife's wrath.

It was all good.

However, Spirit surprised Soul by yelling:

"Yeah, later, you brat!"

A slight grin tugged on his face as he approached Maka, merely shrugging off her questions and distracting her with a well-placed teasing regarding her child-like curiosity – which earned him a well-placed Maka Chop but secured that his private conversation with her father was kept between only them.

* * *

><p><strong>17b<strong>

Spirit had been right.

Soul wondered how he had even managed to get someone so uptight, so _strict and no-nonsense, _to _fall for him_ – this woman was more uptight than _Maka_, far more strict than his piano instructor, and could rival his corporate cold father in friendliness.

She kept looking – no, _glaring _at him as if he had committed a horrible crime right before her very eyes. Truthfully, Soul hadn't known what to expect from Kami Albarn, aside from the ominous warning given by Spirit, when he approached her in the airport after picking up he and Maka's luggage. Maka had been happily conversing with her as they waited on him but the instant Kami turned to look at him, her smile was wiped off her face and she soured.

Since they had left the airport, Kami had been sending him nasty looks. She had tossed a few jabs at him (_"I'm not a very big fan of dye jobs - especially dying your hair outrageous colors like red or white.") _and treated him as if he were a high-school dropout with absolutely no future ahead of them, although Maka had cheerfully boasted that he had finished his schooling rather early and had a successful career at a famous record company.

But even Kami managed to find a dark spot in that (_"Well, the music industry isn't making much money anymore. What with illegal downloads and all...")._

He didn't have to be a genius to know it was how he _looked_ that disappointed her, as Spirit had gently hinted. Be it his stark white hair or vivid red eyes; or perhaps his black leather jacket or the chains and keys that hung off the loops on his coolly ripped black jeans. Regardless of what it was about him that put her off, Kami wouldn't relent in her resentful looks and even Maka had taken notice of it.

Or perhaps it had been when Kami straight out turned his help down, using the excuse that he wouldn't be able to find the store although it was simply down the street, when he offered to buy them all dinner since they had arrived home late.

"Stop trying to defend her: she _hates_ me." Soul deadpanned. Maka cut herself off abruptly.

"She doesn't _hate_ you, Soul, she just..." Maka struggled for words before sighing. "She just thought I'd go for someone...happier?"

"What, I'm not happy? I can be happy - _see?_" Soul plastered on a fake smile. His tone, however, remained as flat as ever.

Maka stared dryly.

He snorted and grinned a little, some life draining back into his face. "Alright, so I look like I'd rather jump off a bridge than deal with everyone half the time – that doesn't mean I'm emo."

"She just wasn't expecting someone like you." Maka told him, thoughtfully. She sank back in the couch, taking Soul's hand in her own. Her mother was discussing something on the phone in the other room; two of her brides maids paying rapt attention to whatever it was Kami was yelling about. "She was probably expecting someone, well..."

"Nerdy like you?" Soul finished for her. He added, teasingly:"Yeah, I figured. But, y'know, for a dork, you're pretty _great _in bed – !"

"MAKA CHOP!" Maka put her book away without sparing her pained boyfriend a second look. "Mama was just expecting someone in dress pants and a button-up shirt, not someone in a leather jacket with combat boots. She told me you were a bad influence." Maka cringed as she said this, looking apologetic.

Soul remained unaffected by her words. He had been told that many times, only to have those people eat their words when they discovered he was making twice as much as them in half the time. "Why would you want someone so boring? Face it, Maka, I make your life _colorful._" He snickered at the look of exasperation that crossed her face. "You'd be miserable without me."

"Would not."

"Would too."

"Would _not_!" Maka laughed when Soul leaned over and cuddled her, his snickering shifting to laughter when she flushed pink at his teasing affection.

"Denying the obvious isn't cool, Maka."

"Soul – quit it! Not here!" Maka hissed when a devious hand slithered up her shirt, fingering the edge of her bra teasingly. "_Soul!_ I'm serious! My mother is _in the other room!_"

"C'mon, live a little. I'm a bad influence, remember?" Soul cracked up when she slapped his hand away, red-faced and nervous, but unable to suppress a smile at his playful ways.

Too caught up in their fun, they didn't notice Kami's resigned smile as she watched her daughter giggle happily when Soul kissed her cheek in apology.


	18. Chapter 18

**note: **_I'd like to thank Lueur-de-Laube for helping me out with this chapter! It would have taken me days to get it done without your help :)_

**Freefall  
>by. <strong>_Poisoned Scarlet_

* * *

><p><strong>18a<strong>

* * *

><p>She can't understand why he would say his skills as a pianist would never match up to his brothers.<p>

She leaned against the door frame, entranced with the way his fingers swept across the keys. There was an elegance to each motion which she couldn't place; a passion in the way he seemed to sway with the melancholic melody.

Each chord struck sharply, made her catch her breath. She swore she stopped breathing when he raced through a rather complicated segment in the piece before it calmed and continued its forlorn tale. Maka did not understand very much about music; hadn't the slightest idea what a staff was or what the names of all the notes were. She wouldn't be able to tell you if you had missed a few notes, if your technique was all wrong, if the tempo was lacking or rushed.

But as she listened to his private recital, watching the growing grin on his face, Maka didn't need to know all of the technicalities to _know _that he was superbly talented. She decided that if he could make her feel as if someone had turned her inside out, he was more than qualified.

It became quiet once more.

It ached to know the piece was over.

"That was..."

He only spared her one glance before turning back to the instrument, rubbing a key with his finger as he anxiously awaited her verdict. She'd known of his skills in playing the piano for a while now. He had told her so at his brothers concert and, although she had been excited at one point, when he rudely shot her down, she hadn't asked about it again. But it was always there, on the tip of her tongue, and when they'd snuck out of the Reception Hall, in search of a dark nook so he could have his way with her, they'd stumbled upon this music room.

They'd stumbled upon a beautiful grand piano.

And he decided, after catching her hopeful look, what the hell? Whether she liked it or not, it wouldn't make a difference.

He'd still love that girl.

"_Amazing_."

His finger froze on the spot.

"That was amazing, Soul! You're – I never knew you were _this_ good!" Maka laughed, clapping cheerfully. She leaned off the wall, giddy with the intoxicating emotions he'd sprung from a simple song. "I'm so happy you decided to play for me! I wasn't disappointed at all! You're so much better than your brother, Soul!"

Her claps faded, along with her laughter, and still he did not move.

But when he did, it was his wry smile that caught her attention.

"You... still have a shitty taste in music."

But even his deflective words couldn't erase the content glimmer in his eyes.

Maka simply smiled.

* * *

><p><strong>18b<strong>

His fingers curled around her stockings. The mouth of the piano dug into her lower back, creating a shriek of sound when Soul pushed her against it. Her hands slipped, crashing against the keys, yet the dissonance was vague to her addled mind. She could only focus on the way his mouth moved with hers with an unmatched hunger and how her stockings tore down her leg.

His slammed the fallboard down on the keys to silence the instrument, lifting her to sit on top of the glossy top of the piano. He kicked the stool out of the way, not bothering with it when it tipped over, and palmed her breast, impatiently pulling down the straps of her dress.

Her arms wrapped around his neck, fingers twining in the ends of his hair. He kissed her throat. She groaned, tugging impatiently on his hair to bring his mouth back to hers. His teeth bit into her lip, sending spikes of heat through her body.

In the back of her mind, she thought of her mother and how concerned she must be that her ring girl had not shown up yet after excusing herself to the ladies room. She thought of the guests who wished to meet her; her mothers friends, which desired to converse with her; dancing with her new step-father as tradition called for; being a good host in place of her busy-body mom...

Maka seized his tie and tore it off, grabbing his red dress shirt and yanking it open. Buttons scattered the floor but that was the least of her concerns. He hastily shrugged off his blazer, smirking as he tossed his shirt aside. She heard material rip again: the back of her dress was torn cleanly down the middle as if sliced by a knife.

"You could have unzipped it!" Maka argued.

"You _could_ have unbuttoned my shirt." Soul smirked against the hot skin of her neck. She dismissed her protest when his teeth sunk into her neck, deeply enough that she felt pricks of pain but they were quickly overruled by pleasure when his tongue found her mouth again.

Maka laid back and arched off the piano, kicking off her mauled dress. His hands ran up the curves of her body, massaged her perky breasts while she swallowed down her soft mews. His breath was a hot steam of air across the flat of her stomach, her lace panties. She tossed her head to the side, let her eyes fall on the tall door that led to a red-rug hall draped with tapestries and evening lamps after each nameless portrait.

He pushed her up the length of the piano, kneeled upon the fallboard and loomed over her. She cried out when he pushed into her with a hiss, squeezed his hand when he twined their fingers together. The lit chandelier that hung with droplets of crystals blurred all things except for his face; his intense stare, fixating her although she wanted nothing more than to look away and allow the sensations of their love making to freely wreck her from the inside.

She bit her tongue and propped herself up on her elbows, clutching his shoulder as he thrust into her. She stabbed the spike of her heel into the crease in the fallboard, using it as a lever so she could meet his rough thrusts equally. Her trembling hand slipped slowly upon the foggy surface of the piano as it began to get harder and harder to swallow her cries.

"S..Soul..." She gasped.

He grunted, grabbing her arm to pull her back up when he saw she was slipping.

She moaned his name, unable to keep her head up anymore. The light seemed to sway as she stared at the ceiling and she closed her eyes, parted her lips in a voiceless cry when he quickened his pace. But just as a loud cry tore her throat, he stopped, and she snapped her eyes open to protest viciously when he grabbed her and unceremoniously flipped her on her stomach.

The surface of the piano was distressingly cold as she struggled to crawl on her knees. He gave her no recovery time before he pushed into her again, stalling her mid-way from lifting herself up. "What are you doing? Soul?" Her short breath misted the surface, cheek pressed against it, and her hands curled into tight fists as the pressure built inside of her urgently.

"What's it look like I'm doing?" A hand dragged up her body, another one cupping her breast and rolling a nipple between fingers. She keened when he pulled them. "You're smart," he purred into her ear. "Figure it out." Her head turned and he kissed her, tongue sliding into her mouth as his cock slid into her again and again.

Her release was imminent, just like his. She knew it from the way he gasped into against her ear and how his grip on her hips tightened to a nearly painful level; nails digging into her flesh. She was panting harshly, whimpering and sobbing his name in mercy as her body was consumed with unbearable heat. She shut her eyes, on the precipice of ecstasy, and bit her lip hard enough to draw blood when his thrusts reached deeply within her.

It was all she could take.

Throwing her head back, she cried out her pleasure, desperately trying to hold onto something as her back arched and her legs quivered and her arms shook with the force of her orgasm. Sparks shattered across her closed eyelids, his name escaping her throat in a shrill cry. His arm wove around her stomach, gripping her in place as they rode out the waves of their climax together.

Her chest heaved, hands clutching his arm across her torso, thighs spread across the surface that reflected their bodies. She let her head rest against his shoulder while he slumped against her, lips touching the rapid pulse on her neck. She wondered if he could feel just how hard her heart was pounding; how out of breath and exhausted she felt as everything began to regain its color and texture.

There was a faint flow of chatter and laughter that came from down the hall. She wondered if it had always been there. It drifted through the room that was now silent, returned her awareness to the situation at hand. Her mother was likely looking for her now; worried for her daughter, whom had never returned from the ladies room. Her dress was in shreds; torn by Soul's hand in their frenzy. And the piano – the smooth, glorious, piano that was now filthy with their hand prints and sweat.

"_Shit _that was the best one to date."

Maka couldn't help it: she laughed. It was such a ridiculous scenario: fucking in the private music room of such a fancy hotel, her mothers wedding reception just down the hall. She could only imagine what a tale this would be. Her laughter faded to soft chuckles as his lips pressed against her neck affectionately. Kneeling on the fallboard, which had surprisingly not given with his weight, Soul properly pressed her against his chest.

Her hand came up to comb through his hair.

"Hey, Maka..." He whispered. She could feel her heart pick up again. "What do you think your dad would do if I told him I wasn't going anywhere for a _long _time?"

The implications in his sentence wrenched her heart with hope. She twisted away from him, sliding her leg across the piano in an effort to rightly face him. He watched her idly, not at all ashamed to be bare under her gaze. She didn't let her eyes stray, regardless: she focused only on his eyes, sitting herself upon the edge and looking up at him with a warm smile.

"He'd total your bike."

"No way – that's _not_ cool." Soul cringed but pressed his hands on her cheeks. He leaned down to capture her lips with his. They soon stretched into a devious grin. "I guess I'll just have to wreck _you _if he does, huh?"

Maka flushed. "Shut up! That sounds wrong in so many ways!"

"It's only wrong if you think it's wrong." Soul sang, dodging a swat of her hand. He fingered a strand of her hair, his hand following up the warmth of her cheek. He had been about to bring her in for another kiss when he heard the single worst sound in the entire world:

"Maka? Where are you?" Kami called, concernedly. "Maka?"

"Oh, _shit_." Soul immediately thought to execute Plan B. Then he remembered there _was _no Plan B, because he wasn't the type to think ahead to something as horrifying as getting caught in the act by his girlfriends mother. Thankfully, however, Maka _was_.

"Give me my dress! Hurry!" Maka insisted. Soul scrambled to pick up her mutilated dress, holding it out incredulously.

"Okay, there is _no way _you can pass that off as getting it stuck on the edge of something." Soul deadpanned.

"Just give it!" Maka snapped. He watched as she struggled into it, Kami's calls growing louder by the second. "What're you standing around for? Get dressed!"

Soul pulled on his pants, which were thankfully still in tact, but cursed his shirt. A few of the buttons were missing from when Maka tore it off him. He had been about to put on his blazer to hide the evidence of their tryst when Maka clucked her tongue, holding out her hand.

"Give it."

"What? But what about _me_?" He handed the blazer over to her, however, and watched as her once-mauled dress suddenly became presentable again. Soul eyed his shirt, rumpled from where Maka had fisted it, and the missing buttons that made it seem like he scarcely escaped a mob. "Damn it, did you _have _to rip it off?"

"Oh, get over it!" Maka rolled her eyes. She slipped on her stockings, grimacing when she noticed one of them was torn a little, and wiggled back into her shoes. Kami's calls were fading, possibly because she had turned down the hall; ignoring the music room. "You don't look _that_ bad." She fixed his shirt in a way that hid the obvious signs of abuse. "There! See?"

"Yeah, now it only looks like I narrowly escaped rape." Soul sarcastically said.

Her bottom lip jutted out and she huffed, turning away. "You're exaggerating. You look fine. Just fix your hair." Maka fixed her own as she said this, adjusting his blazer on her shoulders. She had already taken two steps when she felt him reach out to her and pull her back to him. A complaint on the tip of her tongue, Maka hadn't expected the deep kiss he pulled her into.

"Alright," he drawled with a smirk. "_Now _we can leave." And he walked around her and to the door, whistling over his shoulder to snap her out of her daze. "C'mon, before your mom thinks we ran off to do something bad. Like smoke."

Maka sent him a dry look in reply. "Mama isn't dumb, Soul. If we take any longer, she'll know _exactly_ what we were up to and she'll kick you out of the house."

"I'm so scared."

"I'm serious!"

"I'm serious, too." He snickered when she slapped his arm. "Seriously, what's the worst she could do?"

"She almost castrated my papa when she caught him with another woman when I was ten." Maka flatly told him. Soul's smile was wiped off his face instantly. "Almost got sent to the hospital and everything because it hurt too much."

"...That's just plain cruel, Maka."

Maka smiled thinly, the threat clear in her eyes. "Like mother, like daughter, right?"

"But I'd never cheat on you. I already swore I wouldn't." Soul uneasily reminded. They stood in the middle of the hall, no longer worrying about Kami and the consequences of their actions. Instead, they focused on this new problem that arouse between them: the coldness in Maka's eyes and the hardness in Soul's because of one thing. "Cheating isn't cool."

"You say that now, but..."

"No. I mean it." Soul stepped forward. She held her ground, guarded. "I could never cheat on you, Maka..." It was easier to say a second time around, Soul noticed idly. It didn't feel like someone was crushing his lungs; it didn't feel like he was being held captive. It was a _relief_, to get it off his chest. "I love you too much."

She sucked in a sharp breath.

"Maka," Soul warned, grabbing her arm. He caught the panic in her eyes before it registered in her mind. Maka shot her eyes to the floor, troubled with this new revelation. But she didn't push away from when he wrapped her in his arms, waiting for her to calm down enough to think. "Look, you don't have to say it back or anything if you don't want to." It would just _hurt_ him that she wouldn't, he thought grimly, but not enough for him to ignore her. He couldn't ignore her for long; it was too hard to. He'd just have to try harder, that's all. "But just know that I wouldn't see someone behind your back. I don't need anyone else - you're enough." He mumbled into her hair. "_You'll always be more than enough._"

There was a seconds delay but she embraced him back, pressing her forehead against his chest. She could hear his heart pounding. He was nervous, she quietly realized, nervous yet he managed to look confident and unaffected. Always trying to be cool, she thought with a fond smile. Her hand pressed against his chest one last time, feeling the scar beneath. So close to death, she told herself, he could be taken from her at any moment without warning. Her hand fisted his shirt and she looked up, saying with a confidence he admired: "I love you, too, Soul."

He didn't say anything: he grinned and brought her into a kiss that sealed their declarations officially.

And Kami heard their private confessions from around the bend, a soft smile playing on her lips when she caught her daughters giggles when Soul whispered something into her ear. She looked down at her wedding band, the diamond whose sleek surfaces glistened under the dim light of the lamp above her.

Perhaps one day, Kami thought to herself, Maka would be the one finding herself admiring a wedding band of her own.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **And it's finally over! That's right folks: this series has officially come to a close! Another story completed, now I have time to make _another_ story! You guys ready for this one? It'll be a while before I post it up, since it'll be undergoing massive editing with the help of Lacrow, who thankfully agreed to work on it with me, but I'll keep you guys entertained with my infamous one-shots and perhaps a two shot here and there if you're lucky.

I'd like to thank all of you who followed this story until the end! You guys are just too awesome :)

_Scarlett._


End file.
